


Nocturne

by PeppermintBark



Series: Our Shared Illusion of Utopia [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Biting, Blood, Cults, Emotional Instability, Hemophilia, M/M, Mental Instability, Mind Control, Past Abuse, Suicidal Ideation, They're at a vampire school to deal with vampire problems, True of Vamp fusion, a LOT of pseudoscience relating to vampire biology, gothic fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintBark/pseuds/PeppermintBark
Summary: As a dhampir, Seonghwa has grown accustomed to being cast aside by just about everyone. He's never had big plans for himself, even after suddenly being moved to a Clan to live among the most elite of vampirekind to wait out the rest of his Metamorphosis.However, that all changes with the arrival of one Kim Hongjoong, a perfect-split dhampir with a host of his own problems, but also a strange sense of hope for his own future.Together, the two of them stumble upon a secret that both their Clan and vampire society as a whole are trying to push under the rug. Is it possible that the myth of the First Vampire may be real? And what does Choi San know that he won't say?(Part of a series! Prequel to Wryness of Purity)
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: Our Shared Illusion of Utopia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980289
Comments: 31
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you've properly read the summary, you'll know this is actually part of a series. I'm hoping to work some more on the opening chapter of Wryness soon, and hopefully that will be out before the end of the year. 
> 
> I don't want to give away too much about the universe and its rules juuuust yet, but I have a few terms to remember for this verse:  
> -Dhampir: I know there are a few spellings of this word, or maybe I'm just dyslexic, but this is just a fancy term for someone who's part vampire and part human.  
> -Blood composition: It may not come up too much, but for dhampirs like Seonghwa and Hongjoong, blood composition can play an important role in how well off a dhampir is both physically and mentally. Seonghwa's blood composition is 72% vampire, making him an almost clean 3/4 split. Hongjoong, of course, is 50%, so he's evenly split both ways.  
> -Blood Council: This is the ruling class of vampires. Think of them as, like, the Vampire Government.  
> -Clan: A Clan is something of a cross between a regular school and a sanatorium, which is a treatment facility for people with a chronic illness. For this universe's sake, most vampires come to a Clan in their late teens, anywhere from 16 to 19, and usually "graduate" around the age of 25. Most regular vampires would attend special boarding schools that serve similar purposes, but aren't quite considered Clans just yet for reasons I'll get into later on.  
> -Metamorphosis: Our source material/inspiration for this universe uses the term 繭期, which our translators have interpreted as "Chrysalis," "Cocoon," or "Metamorphosis." I'm going with Metamorphosis here because I like it. It's vampire puberty, basically, but it comes with super severe mood swings and violent tendencies. I'll get into what all of the details are later, but that's the basic definition.  
> Also, yes, I know that not all of the boys are mentioned. I'm aware. It's because this takes place [specific number redacted for spoilers] years before the events of Wryness, where we'll see all eight of the boys along with the full Stray Kids ensemble. Yes, we are staytinys in this house. Please do not get mad at me for these things. I have a specific vision, and I think that a lot of people will enjoy this, so if you aren't completely turned off from the story by now, I think you'll really like the journey that all of these boys will be going through!  
> There aren't any super big warnings for this chapter since it's an introduction of sorts. Keep an eye on the story's tags as we go, however, because I completely blanked while trying to fill that out.  
> Anyway, yeah! Enjoy ^_^

Seonghwa is used to being invisible. 

All his life, he’s been told that his existence is an abomination. As a dhampir, he is shunned by humans and vampires alike; the humans fear the vampire in him while the vampires scoff at his humanity. As a result, he’s spent the majority of his life in an orphanage for others like him. 

When he’d arrived there at the age of ten, he naively believed that perhaps he could finally live among people that could accept him for who- and what- he was. 

And yet again, he found himself excluded from the majority. So many of the others despaired over their existence, lamented their tainted blood, and trembled in fear of their inevitable early deaths. While Seonghwa might resent the beings that brought him into this world, he’s never despaired over his inevitable end. He’s never seen a point to it. His peers, apparently, did not share his outlook.

So being isolated, being treated like he doesn’t, or shouldn’t, exist, is nothing new to Seonghwa. 

Perhaps that’s why he finds Hongjoong so… _irritating_. 

As one of the very few dhampirs in the Clan upon his arrival some four years ago, Seonghwa ended up with a room to himself. Their numbers tend to fluctuate as metamorphosing vampires come and go as they need, so when he arrived a year ago, they’d had enough open rooms available that they could easily get away with allowing Seonghwa to live by himself. 

And that’s how it had been until just last week when Seonghwa was informed that they had another dhampir joining the Clan. 

“Why not just put him with Seungyoun?” Seonghwa had asked. 

Siyeon had paused, considering her words. “We feel that Hongjoong might do better if he roomed with you,” she said. “Your symptoms aren’t quite as… unpredictable as Seungyoun’s.”

It’s a nice way of saying that Seonghwa is so boring that he doesn’t pose a risk of triggering another dhampir into an episode. From what he understands, dhampirs tend to feed off each other’s emotions, and so if one is in a fit of despair, it’s very easy for the others to fall into a similar state. It makes sense. He doesn’t like that it makes sense, but he’s not about to argue. And it isn’t that Hongjoong is unpleasant to be around. It’s quite the opposite, if Seonghwa is honest.

And _that_ is what makes him irritating. 

“You walk too fast,” Hongjoong whines as Seonghwa pauses in the hallway. 

It’s early evening. Seonghwa usually gets up earlier than most of his vampire peers, and he hardly feels like it’s a personal choice; he ends up waking up early no matter what time in the day he goes to sleep. Minji has told him that’s because his body is simply unable to decide on a proper circadian rhythm. Because of course it can’t.

“It’s not my fault you have short legs,” Seonghwa says, turning around to face the younger. 

Hongjoong stops, glaring at Seonghwa as he leans on his cane. The cane, from what Seonghwa understands, is temporary. Something about a blood disorder, which isn’t uncommon for dhampirs, especially when they’re a 50/50 split like Hongjoong. He didn’t offer much information about it, and Seonghwa didn’t care enough to ask. For a moment, he feels like he should.

“I still don’t know why you’re following me around,” Seonghwa says. 

“Why not?” Hongjoong retorts. “We’re roommates, and no one else around here will even look at me half the time.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Seonghwa replies, turning back around. “I’d get used to that, if I were you,” he says over his shoulder.

“Do you think that makes you better than them?”

Seonghwa pauses. He looks over his shoulder. 

“Do I think what makes me better than them?” 

Hongjoong huffs. “Being rude,” he says. “Not associating with anyone. Does it make you feel better than the people that look down on you?”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow before turning to face the younger. Hongjoong locks eyes with him.

“What does it matter to you?” Seonghwa asks. 

“We aren’t that different,” Hongjoong says. “The teachers told me you came here directly from an orphanage, did you not? I’ve lived my entire life in one room because my family is ashamed of me.” 

“That’s hardly comparable.”

“Is it, though?” Hongjoong asks. “Within minutes of meeting me, you told me that you think most dhampirs focus too much on death, on the hand that life has dealt those like us. The only reason I’m still alive is because I decided that I’m only accepting death on my terms. And yet you still think that I’m no different from any other dhampir!”

“Listen,” Seonghwa says, taking a step toward the younger. “It seems to me that no one has told you that there are rules here. We’re two of three dhampirs in one of the top Clans among our kind. The children of the most prolific Blood Council members, the future leaders of the Blood Council, all come here to wait out their Metamorphosis, and none of them care about making friends, let alone with people like us.”

“But what about you?” Hongjoong asks.

“What _about_ me?” Seonghwa asks. “I don’t even know why I’m here. They brought me here and I never had any say in the matter. I came here with nothing, and I will leave here with nothing, if I ever leave at all.”

“So,” Hongjoong says, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “you think that by keeping your head down and coming off as uncaring is going to keep them from thinking you have anything to lose? Do you think it’s going to stop them from hating you for something that’s completely out of your control?”

“It’s gotten me this far,” Seonghwa replies. 

“Then what’s the point?”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Anything! You aren’t living for anything!” Hongjoong retorts. “You’re living as if you are already dead, as if your life is entirely inconsequential!”

There are people watching them. Seonghwa can feel their eyes on the two of them, but he isn’t so sure if Hongjoong has caught on. 

He doesn’t need to give them anything else to say about him.

Seonghwa sighs. “What do you want, then?” He asks. “We’re going to be late if you keep this up.”

“All I ask,” Hongjoong says, “is that you stop acting like I’m not here. I’ve been treated as if I were invisible my entire life, and I’m tired of it.”

Seonghwa didn’t think he had done anything of the sort, if he’s honest with himself. However, he supposes his own perspective on what counts as avoidance may be a bit skewed since that’s become the norm for him. And as much as he may hate to admit it, Hongjoong has a point.

At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to humor the kid for a while, right? 

Seonghwa rights his posture. “Try and keep up,” is all he says before turning back around and heading toward their first class.

And if he walks a little slower than usual, neither of them say anything about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very good at starting stories, but I also wanted to have this done and to get it up before the end of the year. I've literally had an outline for this entire series since February, so it's been simmering long enough, I think. I would hate for this all to go to waste in the same way a lot of my drafts have.  
> I'm hoping to update soon! I can't say how soon, as I've learned that self-imposed deadlines don't work too well with me, but like I've said, I'm very passionate about this piece, and I want to share it with the world, so be on the lookout for the next chapter and possibly also the beginning of Wryness of Purity!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this ended up being a few days late, unfortunately. If I'm honest, the chapter got a little bigger than I had originally intended, but it works, I think. Hopefully. 
> 
> Also, just as like, a disclaimer, throughout the first few chapters I plan on introducing things, belief systems, biology stuff, without really explaining too much at first. There's reasons for that! This story may be many things, but it definitely isn't underdeveloped, I can assure you. I have a ridiculous amount of work put into the outline, so if something comes up and isn't really explained, don't worry! We'll get there. It's a journey. 
> 
> Anyway, yeah! No big warnings for this one, I guess. We talk about bleeding disorders a bit, and I did the best I could on researching that. I don't really have names for certain things and that's mainly because the time period is meant to be kind of vague. The passage of time is a really weird thing in the True of Vamp universe, and that's come through in the way I write the story, as well.  
> ... For now, at least.
> 
> OH and before I forget, I have a specific Vision(tm) for Hongjoong and Seonghwa's appearance in this AU. I'm working on an actual visual guide to put somewhere on Twitter, but it's taking forever because 1) I don't know if it's entirely necessary, and 2) a lot of my True of Vamp screenshots are ASS and I don't know how I feel about it. 
> 
> I'll work on that, though. I feel like it's important to understanding the setting, vague as it is.

He can’t remember how he got here. In fact, all Hongjoong remembers is falling.

His father had caught him doing something he’s not supposed to, and instead of just taking the scolding, Hongjoong talked back. At least, he thinks that’s what happened. He can’t be sure, and it quite literally hurts to think about.

Everything still hurts. Even with whatever concoction they have at the Clan’s infirmary, Hongjoong’s body _hurts._ It’s certainly nothing new; in fact, even on some of his pain-free days he’ll find himself feeling as if something is missing. He supposes that maybe part of him had naively hoped that the move wouldn’t be so… traumatic. 

Hongjoong had long dreamed of the day he would finally be allowed to leave the house. He’d read countless stories about Clan life, hoping against hope that one day his father would finally show him some mercy, or compassion, or _something_ beyond the unbearable look of pity. Now that he’s here, though… he doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“Can you go through that one more time?” Hongjoong asks, eyes trained on the assortment of medicines before him.

Minji giggles. “Don’t worry too much about knowing everything straight away,” she says. “Most of it is given out as needed or in the event of an emergency, like if you were to have an impulse episode.”

Hongjoong looks up. “What’s that?”

Minji furrows her brows in confusion. “You’ve not had one?” She asks.

“I-I don’t think so? Usually our nurses would tell me what was happening to me or I would ask, but I’ve never heard that word before.”

Minji nods, expression unsure for a moment before composing herself. “Well, it’s an extreme bout of thirst, essentially,” she says. “It can be really hard to think clearly during one of these episodes, and we wouldn’t want you to hurt anyone or yourself due to something as controllable as bloodlust. It’s important that if you think you feel an episode coming on that you let a teacher or either Bora or myself know.”

Hongjoong nods, unsure of what to say. He’s certainly never heard the word “controllable” used to describe bloodlust. 

“But,” Minji continues, picking up a small syringe, “we’re giving you some of these to keep with you because of your condition.”

“What does it do?” Hongjoong asks as Minji hands him the syringe.

“It’ll help your blood clot faster,” she explains. “Use it if you get hurt, or if you have any kind of bleed.”

Hongjoong studies the thing. “How long has this been,” he pauses, looking for the right word, “around?”

Minji hesitates before answering. “They’re still relatively new,” she says. “We only have them on hand because we’ve had a few kids with your same condition over the years. You’re not the first dhampir to be born to a Councilman, Hongjoong-ssi, believe me.”

“I kind of figured,” he replies, eyes still trained on the syringe. “It’s just that I’ve never known there was a way to… stop this.” 

He meets Minji’s eyes, and her expression softens. “You’re in good hands here,” she says. “I know you might not believe it, but your father was very worried when he brought you here. He even asked us to send a report within the week to make sure you were okay.”

“Wouldn’t want you to think he was just dumping me here, I presume,” Hongjoong mutters. 

Minji opens her mouth as if to say something, but quickly shuts it. She smiles. “Either way,” she says, “I think you’ll like being here. Must be nice, right?”

“It is,” Hongjoong says. “It’s better than being alone.”

Minji stands, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. “We should get you to your room,” she says. “Classes have already started, so your roommate is probably out, but that should give you some time to get settled.”

Hongjoong perks up. “Roommate?” He asks.

Minji nods, offering a hand to help him stand. “Seonghwa. He’s also a dhampir,” she says. “We let him know yesterday that you were coming, so it won’t be a huge surprise.”

“I’m not the only dhampir?”

“You’re one of three, now,” Minji calls over her shoulder as she crosses the room. She returns a moment later, and Hongjoong deflates a little.

Well, at least he’s grateful that his father had the foresight to bring his cane. Or rather, one of the nurses at home had insisted on it. 

It’s a necessity at the moment; even just standing is putting a strain on his leg, but it just feels like another kick in the face. 

“From what I understand, it’s just temporary,” Minji says. “And with the serum, you should be alright in a few days’ time.” 

Hongjoong finds that hard to believe, but he nods along anyway. 

Minji smiles. “Do you think you would be up for a short tour?”

* * *

It would appear that something Hongjoong overlooked in his “research” on Clan life is that there are a lot of rules. A ridiculous and, in his opinion, _unnecessary_ number of rules. 

“A lot of them are simply circumstantial,” Siyeon explains when Hongjoong voices this. “If you end up in a specific situation, don’t do this, essentially.” She glances at him. “You shouldn’t have to worry about most of them.”

Hongjoong isn’t sure what that means, and he isn’t sure if he wants to know. 

“And here we are!” Minji says as they approach a door in the middle of the dormitory hallway. 

Hongjoong is a bit surprised when he enters the room. If Minji hadn’t told him that he had a roommate, he would have likely assumed the room was vacant. As he steps in, he can see hints of life scattered around the room, but for the most part it’s immaculate. It’s certainly nothing compared to his old room, but for a dorm, it’s comfortable, he thinks. 

“Your uniform is in the closet,” Siyeon says, “along with a bag of some things your father dropped off.” She glances at Minji. “Should we-”

“There was, um,” Minji says, “there was something in there we had to confiscate.”

Hongjoong turns around, furrowing his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” Minji looks down. “How do we put this?”

“We don’t allow material that pushes conspiracy theories like the Origin Belief here,” Siyeon says. “Given your condition, it’s especially dangerous. We can’t allow it.”

Hongjoong feels his blood turn to ice, but manages to keep his composure. 

“Eden isn’t a conspiracy theory,” he says, frustrated with the waver in his voice. “I don’t see why-”

“It’s a general law,” Minji says quickly. “Very little content on the Origin Belief is even legal. It’s not our rule, Hongjoong-ah. I hope you understand that.” 

Hongjoong doesn’t think his father ever told him anything about that. Of course, his father has no idea what books Hongjoong has managed to get his hands on over the years, but it just seems odd that no one ever told him. 

“Since when?” He asks.

“Always.” Siyeon backs away from the doorway. “Everything else was left untouched. We’ll leave you to it.”

With that, Siyeon walks away. Minji looks after her, unsure. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I should have said something sooner.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Hongjoong sits down on his bed. “You’re doing your job.”

Minji nods. “I’m glad you understand.”

Hongjoong smiles, watching as Minji backs out of the room and closing the door behind her. He can’t say he’s angry with either of them; they’re only doing their jobs, and he’s certainly already made that harder for them.

Besides, beliefs don’t just reside in books. 

* * *

There really isn’t a lot to do in terms of unpacking, but Hongjoong still manages to spend an hour or two going through what little belongings his house staff probably shoved in the bag before he left. When he thinks about it, Hongjoong misses them a little bit; after all, they _had_ raised him. 

Ultimately, however, he thinks that being here is bringing him closer to his goal, and he thinks they understand that, too. 

One thing that particularly captures his attention is the design of his uniform. He remembers that Siyeon mentioned that alterations and customization of the uniform is allowed-- within reason, of course. He’s never thought too much about what he wears, so knowing that that freedom is there is comforting, but when he looks at the uniform, he isn’t really sure what he would ever want, or need, to change. 

The uniform itself is rather simple with a dress shirt, a blazer, and a pair of pants all in a warm white, but the details of the outfit are what make them stand out. Throughout the ensemble are hints of floral lace, and the buttons of the blazer are decorated with small crystal flowers. Simply put, Hongjoong has never seen anything like it. It’s fancy, but not in the same way that the fashion of the Councilmen he’s seen in passing is fancy. It’s perfect, Hongjoong thinks.

It’s strange, really. While they were touring the Clan, they would occasionally pass by a group of students, and it wasn’t until Hongjoong got a good look at some of them that he realized how little thought he’s put into his appearance over the years. 

He supposes it was never a priority; after all, only a handful of people have ever even known he exists. The staff were sometimes nice enough to cut his hair, but it was never something that weighed heavily on his mind. 

He can recall one instance some years ago where he’d asked his father what he thought of his appearance. His father had looked at him for a moment, expression unreadable.

He’d said, “You look like your mother.” 

The way he’d said it made Hongjoong understand that it wasn’t a compliment. He didn’t bring it up again. 

Siyeon mentioned that students are supposed to have their hair tied back if it’s past shoulder-length, and Hongjoong supposes it makes sense, but it feels… strange. He twirls a strand of his hair around his finger as he thinks about having to tie it back. He knows it really isn’t that big of a deal, but it just feels weird. 

He remembers that one of the staff at home had always complimented on his hair. They’d mentioned how it seems so different from both his father and even his brother. She’d told him that his mother probably had thicker hair, that she’s likely where he gets his soft waves. 

Hongjoong isn’t sure how he’s able to miss someone he’s never known. 

He’s still lost in thought when the door opens. For a moment, he doesn’t realize someone else is in the room with him. 

“Hongjoong, right?”

Hongjoong snaps out of his thoughts and turns around. 

During the tour, Minji had told him that a majority of the students at the Clan were higher-class, the children of some of the most powerful vampires on the planet. And sure, the few students that he has seen are good-looking.

Somehow, they still don’t compare to Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong considers himself rather well-read, if anyone were to ever ask. He’s certainly had a lot of time to consume all sorts of literature. One thing he’s always marveled at is the way writers and poets are able to describe their subjects, their objects of affection. At some point, one would think that reading so much of this would bless Hongjoong with the words to actually describe the young man in front of him. Unfortunately, or maybe blessedly, he’s speechless. 

“Are you going to stare at me all evening?” Seonghwa asks. 

Hongjoong blinks. “No, sorry,” he says, smiling. “You’re Seonghwa, aren’t you?”

“‘Would appear that way,” Seonghwa replies, raising a brow. “You sure you’re a dhampir? You seem way too… happy.”

Hongjoong’s smile falters. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever spoken to another dhampir?” Seonghwa asks incredulously as he walks further into the room. “They’re all depressed, always lamenting their blood as if crying hard enough will cure their ailments.” He picks up a small bottle from his bedside table before turning around to face Hongjoong again. “Where are you from, anyway? They wouldn’t tell me.”

Hongjoong pauses. He remembers that his father had told Minji not to let anyone know that Hongjoong was his son, so he would assume that rule applies to everyone. “I lived with my father,” he says. “He’s a vampire, my mother died when I was born. I basically just lived out of a room for most of my life, I guess.”

Seonghwa stares at him for a moment, expression hard to read. “You’re a perfect split, right?” He asks at last. 

Hongjoong nods. “I take it you aren’t?”

“Seventy-two percent,” Seonghwa says as he walks toward the door. “Vampire dominant.” He rests a hand on the doorknob before turning back. “It might be better that you’re so positive. Gives them less to work with.”

Hongjoong isn’t really sure what that means, but Seonghwa is gone before he can even begin to ask.

Their conversations are like that for the rest of the week; terse and cryptic. At first, Hongjoong gets the sense that maybe Seonghwa just doesn’t know how to talk to people, but he quickly figures out that Seonghwa simply chooses not to put in an effort to speak to anyone else. 

Of course, Hongjoong also finds out rather quickly that the other students don’t really like associating with dhampirs very much. He’d approached one of the students he remembered seeing on his first day, a younger man with blond hair that looked nice enough, and tried striking up a conversation. 

The younger man had hardly looked at him before he scrunched his nose. 

“You smell disgusting.”

The comment surprised Hongjoong at first. No one had ever commented on his scent before. Sure, he knows that vampires have a heightened sense of smell, but he couldn’t smell _that_ bad.

Could he?

“It’s not awful to me,” Seonghwa had said when he asked. “It’ll take some getting used to, but it’s not horrible. My senses are different from theirs, though, especially someone of Hyunjin’s standing.”

So for a few days, Hongjoong tries to adjust. He doesn’t talk to the others, and while Seonghwa isn’t a very enthusiastic conversation partner, he doesn’t tell him that he smells bad, so it works. For a few days.

He isn’t sure what prompts him to confront Seonghwa, but it seems to work. In the days that follow, Seonghwa seems to be learning in his own way, and it’s nice. Most of the time they’re in the same classes, so there’s actually not a lot of time during the day that they aren’t together. 

“I don’t trust that guy.” 

Hongjoong would never admit it, but he’s made an effort to learn most everyone’s names, even if they’ve never spoken a word to him. Most of the others won’t even look in his direction, but that hasn’t deterred him yet. He looks over at whoever Seonghwa is talking about. 

Right away, Hongjoong recognizes the young man as their newest classmate. San, he thinks. Since he’s not too far away, and the school is kind enough to actually use indoor lighting, Hongjoong can actually see what the guy looks like. He’s tall, at least in Hongjoong’s eyes, but most of the other boys here are taller than him, so that doesn’t mean very much. He isn’t doing much; if anything, he looks like he’s observing everyone else milling about the cafeteria. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Hongjoong asks.

“It’s just so _strange,_ ” Seonghwa says. “Clanfest is around the corner, why would they bring someone in now?”

“Maybe it was urgent,” Hongjoong offers. “I’ve only been here, what, two weeks?”

“Perhaps,” Seonghwa says absently. “Something about him just feels… off.”

“What do you mean?”

Seonghwa shifts his gaze to Hongjoong. “You probably don’t know much about it,” he says, “but vampires usually have a pretty good sense of danger. It’s like… a sixth sense. Of course, Metamorphosis can mess with that, too, so maybe I’m exaggerating.”

“Isn’t that what the medicine is for, though?” Hongjoong asks.

“Usually,” Seonghwa replies. “But you know how _that_ goes.” 

He certainly does. Managing Metamorphosis symptoms is a very careful balancing act, and he thinks he owes Minji his life at this point. Hongjoong nods, more or less ready to change the subject, but there’s something that he feels the need to bring up.

“What did you mean when you said I wouldn’t know much about that?” He asks. 

Seonghwa gnaws at his lip and looks away, a habit Hongjoong has noticed he does when he’s flustered or nervous. “I just meant that you probably haven’t been around people often enough for anyone to set off any alarms, justified or not,” he explains quickly. 

That’s another thing Hongjoong has picked up on; Seonghwa is just naturally blunt when he speaks. It makes sense, and Hongjoong recognizes that, but sometimes it’s hard to remind himself of that. 

It can be hard to tell if someone is being cruel on purpose, or if they simply haven’t had to think about the tone of their speech. 

“Dammit,” Seonghwa mutters. “He’s coming.”

Hongjoong looks over and sure enough, San is walking right toward them. 

“What do we do?” Hongjoong asks. 

“Why are you asking _me_? I-”

“It’s not nice to talk about people where they can hear you,” San says, placing his hands on the table in front of them.

“Surely your hypersensitivity isn’t that strong,” Seonghwa retorts. “This place is always ridiculously loud, and we’re literally sitting in the most isolated corner of the room.”

San flashes a smile. “Your friend has been staring at me for the last minute,” he says, cocking his head toward Hongjoong. “You’re Seonghwa and Hongjoong, right?”

“Who told you that?” Seonghwa asks, more insulted than shocked.

“Minji-ssi’s a gossip,” Hongjoong supplies, eyes still trained on San. 

San laughs. “She is,” he says. “However, Bora-ssi told me. There aren’t many dhampirs here.”

“What could you possibly want to do with us, then?” Seonghwa asks.

“We’ll see,” San says, taking a seat across from them. “So, tell me. How do you two like it here?”

“Are you gathering reviews?” Seonghwa asks. 

“Depends how it goes,” San says, resting his chin on his hands. “So?”

“Well, the teachers are all nice,” Hongjoong says. “And the nurses. Other than that, I’ve learned five new swears in the past week alone.”

“In at least three different languages,” Seonghwa interjects. “I’ve told him not to listen to them, but he insists.” 

San raises a brow. “It’s pretty rare to see two dhampirs in a functional friendship,” he says. “How do you manage that?”

“We’re not really-”

“His Metamorphosis presents differently than mine,” Hongjoong says, ignoring Seonghwa outright. “There’s only a small difference in our compositions, but since Seonghwa-hyung is more vampire than he is human, he’s able to manage a bit better than I am. I’m at an even fifty percent, he’s three-fourths.” 

“Biology is weird,” San says. 

“Again,” Seonghwa says, “why do you want to know any of this?”

“I’m only asking,” San says, tone defensive. 

“Yeah, they’ve also ‘only asked’ me shit, too, San-ssi,” Seonghwa retorts, vaguely gesturing toward the other inhabitants of the cafeteria. “I’m not stupid. What do you want?”

San raises his hands in defense. “I don’t have any kind of motive,” he says. “I’m new. I know that most of the time, dhampirs are usually treated poorly in places like this. I thought I would try and be nice. That’s all.”

Hongjoong feels compelled to say something, anything, to ease the tension. “You’ll have to forgive him,” he says. “He can get very… defensive.”

Seonghwa turns to him slowly, eyebrows raised. 

“I’m not offended,” San says. “It makes sense for you to be defensive. I’ve not taken it personally.”

Seonghwa looks over at San for a moment before simply staring down at the table. 

“You know what?” He says after a moment, standing. “Hongjoong-ah, if you think you can make friends with everyone, go right ahead. Just don’t come crying to me when it goes wrong.” 

And with that, he picks up his plate and leaves. 

Hongjoong opens his mouth for a moment, but then shuts it quickly. No point in trying to reason with him. He turns his attention back to San.

“I really am sorry about him,” he says. “He’s not very good with new people.”

San smiles. “Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “Anyway, I still don’t really know the layout of this place. I keep getting lost on the way to class. Would you mind showing me around?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are interested in occasional sneak peeks at what I'm writing, visuals for the AU, or me ranting about how Marigold uses dhampirism as an allegory for queerness, be sure to check out my twitter at poisonhwa!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back early this time!!
> 
> You all are getting two updates this month! Happy Hondadays. 
> 
> Don't have a super long beginning note this time, however I do have some good news! I have the visual guide up on my twitter right now!! I did it earlier today. You can find it [here!](https://twitter.com/poisonhwa/status/1335716528587743233?s=20) I've included visuals for the costumes/hair for our main boys, plus a small explanation of where everyone else is, as well as some music from the shows to help Set The Mood(tm). Go check it out if you're interested!

Seonghwa will never admit it to anyone, much less Hongjoong of all people, but he’s definitely a people-pleaser. It’s one of the main reasons he’s cut himself off from almost everyone at the Clan. 

As an example, for a time after he arrived at the Clan, Seonghwa and Seungyoun had actually grown rather close. They were the only dhampirs on campus, so it made sense for them to be around each other. Much like Hongjoong, Seungyoun has a few physical impairments because of his blood composition. Seonghwa never asked, and the elder had never offered the information, but Seonghwa is pretty certain he has the same affliction Hongjoong suffers from. It just never seemed like the right time to ask, he reasons when he looks back on it.

Seungyoun was… perfectly fine, if Seonghwa is honest. Most of the time he was pleasant to be around. A lot like Hongjoong in some ways, if Seonghwa thinks about it. That’s likely why it was so easy to let his guard down.

It had been nice, he’ll admit. For a short time, Seonghwa wasn’t entirely by himself, and it was _nice_ to feel seen without being glared at. 

Something that he caught onto rather quickly, however, was that Seungyoun could very easily switch from his normal self to… a Metamorphosing dhampir, basically. That’s all there really was to it, wasn’t it? 

From what Bora had told him, Seungyoun’s symptoms seem to come in drawn-out waves. For a time, he might be perfectly happy, euphoric even, but that would always be closely followed by a hard crash. 

“It could have been worse,” she had said. “He’s been worse. He probably didn’t want you to know, but sometimes that can… exacerbate the issue.”

It started out with him simply spending more time in his room. Seonghwa had tried visiting him once-- only once. After being yelled at through the door, he’d decided not to try again.

After a few days, Seungyoun would emerge, but he wouldn’t speak. He wouldn’t do much of anything, honestly. Seonghwa simply walked on eggshells around him, trying to encourage him to eat, to help him with some of their reading for class, to do _something_ other than stare blankly at whatever Seonghwa would wave in front of his face. 

He needed to help him. He _had_ to. It was his job. If he neglected his own well-being in the meantime, did it really matter? He could handle it. Seonghwa could handle a few more hallucinations, an impulsive episode or two. He couldn’t handle losing anyone else. 

He doesn’t want to think about that evening; that night where he’d woken up just as the sun was setting to the sounds of shouting and pained screams coming from down the hall.

It could have been worse, Seonghwa was told. He still isn’t sure how. 

Seungyoun had dealt with an episode of despair so intense he literally didn’t see a way out, and instead of trying to help, Seonghwa had run. He hadn’t looked back. 

At this point, he isn’t sure there’s anything he could possibly say. Seonghwa had failed in one of the worst ways possible; he doesn’t think there’s any way to come back from that.

He’s trying to focus on a book they’re supposed to be reading for class when the door opens. Seonghwa is intent on simply ignoring his roommate, but Hongjoong seems to have other plans.

“Hyung, can we talk?”

“You’re going to talk no matter what I say, so go ahead,” Seonghwa says, closing the book and looking up.

Hongjoong clenches his jaw. “I’m trying to apologize,” he says. 

“Don’t let me stop you, then.”

Hongjoong sighs. “I’m sorry for trying to speak for you,” he says. “Or, over you, I guess. Both.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “You’re forgiven,” he says. “I could care less about that. I just think you shouldn’t be so trusting of strangers.” 

“Look,” Hongjoong says, sitting on his bed. “I know that you’re only telling me to stay away from San because you’re worried he’s going to hurt me. I get that. I deeply appreciate that, but,” he sighs. “I’m not just going to isolate myself. I’m not you, hyung, I can’t do that. I’ve already done that, and I hated it.” 

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. He’s taken off-guard, but he doesn’t want Hongjoong to know that.

“And San isn’t that bad,” Hongjoong continues. “He’s _nice_ , hyung. He’s not like the other high-class kids here.”

“Hongjoong, you’ve known him for five hours at the very most,” Seonghwa replies. “Of course you’re going to think that. The bar isn’t that high when most everyone else here has called you filthy, or disgusting, or some other variant thereof.” 

“Can you at least try and be happy for me?” Hongjoong snaps. “For, like, five minutes, can you at the very least pretend to care about someone other than yourself?”

“I _do_ care about you,” Seonghwa says, and it feels weird to admit, but he means it. “That’s why I’m saying this. You can talk to him, you can become best friends, I don’t care about that. But I care about _you_ , and I know that you aren’t the best at reading other people. You don’t know his intentions, and you refuse to show any kind of caution around him. I’m sure you’ve told him your entire life story by now.”

“Not like there’s much to tell,” Hongjoong mutters. 

Seonghwa sighs. “Just be careful.”

* * *

Seonghwa’s Metamorphosis symptoms, while nowhere near as severe as Hongjoong’s, can be very… troublesome, to say the least.

When he first began his Metamorphosis, he started having strange thoughts. They were never there for long, but they never had to be to have an effect on him. It started with fleeting impulses of violence; an occasional “what if you used that knife to stab yourself in the eye?” during dinner, a passing “you could smother him in his sleep right now,” while he would lie awake late into the afternoon staring at his roommate at the orphanage. In a time where he’d already felt ostracized from his peers, it pushed him further into himself, which only fueled the disordered thoughts.

One of the doctors from back then, a stern older man, had explained to Seonghwa that when vampires mature, their drive to kill increases. It’s a product of their evolution, he’d been told. The problem for Seonghwa, of course, is that he isn’t entirely a vampire, and the part of his brain that’s human sees that drive as abnormal, as an indicator that something was horrifically _wrong_ with him. 

Essentially, his brain is at war with itself in a way more severe than that of regular Metamorphosing vampires. 

From what Seonghwa understands, hallucinations are a common occurrence in Metamorphosis no matter what the blood composition, but the thought doesn’t really comfort him. Most of the time, his hallucinations revolve around the same themes, the same human fears of death and blood that cause the intrusive thoughts. His least favorite are the ones where he looks at his hands only to find them covered in blood.

What’s strange about this is that he has other hallucinations where his entire body looks like he’d just committed a massacre, but he’s learned to recognize that those aren’t real. He can think his way out of those. For him, those are the same as the hallucinations of blood leaking from the walls of the Clan. But his hands? That’s harder for him to rationalize. 

What if he had fallen into a fugue state and just killed someone and didn’t know it? What if someone’s taken his Initiative and ordered him to kill? They’re such outlandish scenarios, and on better nights Seonghwa can step back and see the thoughts for what they are, but in the moment, it doesn’t matter how absurd it sounds. 

He’d even started wearing gloves in a desperate attempt to make the hallucinations stop. For a time, it worked, but within weeks, he would look down every once in a while and find the delicate white lace stained with red. 

Seonghwa cannot overstate how grateful he is that Minji is so good at what she does as the Clan’s pharmacist. Most of the time, the hallucinations are hardly there, and while the intrusive thoughts are almost always present, they’re easier to manage with his medication regime.

That’s _most_ nights, however.

Tonight, his skin crawls with the urge to hurt, to kill. For some reason, and definitely not for any Hongjoong-related reason, he feels _violent._ Out of control, he might say. It certainly doesn’t help that his fencing partner insists on getting on his nerves tonight.

“Haven’t seen you with your boyfriend much lately, Hwa,” Hyunjin says in between foil clashes. “He’s tailing that weird new kid, right?”

“Please don’t call him that,” Seonghwa says, knowing the younger isn’t going to listen to him. “Hongjoong’s allowed to have other friends, you know.”

“It’s just weird,” the blond says, barely avoiding Seonghwa’s foil as he thrusts it forward. “He followed you around like a lame puppy for weeks, and suddenly he’s,” he leans forward conspiratorially, “with another man?”

Seonghwa backs away. “We’re roommates,” he says, enunciating the word clearly. “Are you bedding _your_ roommate?” He tilts his head. “Is that a vampire thing?”

Hyunjin glares at him. “Why do you have to make everything so weird?” 

“You’re the one that called him my boyfriend.”

“It was a _joke,_ Hwa,” the younger man says, rolling his eyes. “Is not understanding jokes a human thing?” 

Usually, Seonghwa knows where to stop with Hyunjin before he tries to start a fight, but tonight, Seonghwa woke up and chose violence, apparently, so rather than backing down, he simply smirks. 

“I’m not going to tell on you,” he says, and he revels in how quickly Hyunjin’s expression morphs from exasperation to shock. “Sure, relationships are strictly forbidden here, but I think I’d be willing to-”

Hyunjin grabs him, hard, and the movement startles Seonghwa into silence. 

“Don’t test me,” Hyunjin says through gritted teeth. 

“I would _never-”_

“You filthy dhampirs need to learn your fucking place-”

“That’s quite enough.”

Hyunjin jumps back at the new voice.

“Hyunjin-ssi,” Kihyun, their fencing instructor, positions himself in between the two of them. “Is there a problem?”

“He started it,” Hyunjin says, pointing at Seonghwa. 

Kihyun sighs, turning to face Seonghwa. “That right?” He asks.

“I breathe and it offends him,” Seonghwa says. “You tell me.”

Kihyun grimaces, exhaling sharply from his nostrils. “Just don’t do it again,” he says curtly before walking off.

Seonghwa expects nothing less.

Later on in the night, on his way to hematology, Hongjoong finally decides to show up.

“Did you do something to piss off Jisung?” He asks, able to keep up with Seonghwa a little better now that he doesn’t need the cane. 

“Should I know who that is?” Seonghwa asks, keeping his eyes forward.

“He’s Hyunjin’s friend, or something,” Hongjoong clarifies. “They’re around each other all the time, haven’t you noticed that?”

“Hyunjin and I don’t really have that kind of relationship, I suppose,” Seonghwa says as they round a corner. “Why are you asking?”

“They seemed... angry,” Hongjoong replies. “More so than usual. I really only saw them in passing, but one or both of them usually like to glare at me whenever they see me, so, you know.”

“That’s just Hyunjin’s face, I think.”

Hongjoong scoffs. “Are you even listening to me?” He steps ahead of Seonghwa and stops, blocking the taller’s way. “I know you and Hyunjin are rivals, or whatever, so I wanted to know if you said anything.”

“What does it matter?” Seonghwa asks. “Now come on, we’re going to be late.”

“What do you mean, ‘what does it matter?’” Hongjoong crosses his arms. “I thought your whole thing was never associating with anyone and _not_ going around picking fights with _special-class Elites,_ hyung. What’s gotten into you?”

“Why are you assuming it has anything to do with you?” 

“I... never said it did.”

“Well, you said they were bothering you-”

“I said they seemed angrier than usual,” Hongjoong clarifies. “They hate me regardless, I didn’t think it would come off as me trying to make it about myself.” He raises an eyebrow. “So it _is_ about me, isn’t it?”

Seonghwa pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can we not do this here?” He asks, keeping his voice low.

“Why not?” Hongjoong asks. “Do you have something better to do?”

“Yes, _we_ do,” Seonghwa says, stepping closer. “We have class. People are watching us. Now, can we _please-_ ”

“Are you two done?” 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Seonghwa turns around to find Hyunjin standing in the hallway, flanked by who he assumes is Jisung and some other boy he doesn’t quite remember the name of.

“As amusing as it is to watch your little,” Hyunjin looks Seonghwa up and down, “lovers’ quarrel, some of us have places to be.” 

“Wait, is _that_ what’s bothering you?” Hongjoong says to Seonghwa before stepping around him to confront Hyunjin. “I told you that’s not true, why do you keep saying that?”

“You’ve talked to him about this?” Seonghwa asks, mortified. 

“Yes,” Hyunjin and Hongjoong say at the same time.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it talking,” Hyunjin says, looking at Seonghwa. “You know how he is.”

“I’m still older than you, Hyunjin-ah,” Hongjoong says. 

“And you still smell like a plague rat,” Hyunjin replies, not missing a beat. “Can we move on now?”

Hongjoong turns back slightly, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes.

“We’re going,” Seonghwa says. “Come on.”

* * *

Class is rather uneventful, which they’re both grateful for. Honestly, when Hongjoong had learned he would be learning about hematology, he’d been a little excited, however that excitement very quickly faded once he’d started the course.

“Too many big words,” he says. “You would think they would make it easier to understand. Like, my head feels like it’s filled with cotton half the time as it is.”

“Most of the students have prior schooling,” Seonghwa replies. “They tried teaching us at the orphanage, but with so many dhampirs, and so many so close to Metamorphosis, it was easier to just let it fall to the wayside.” 

“I guess Father never thought about it,” Hongjoong mumbles, looking further down the hallway. 

He doesn’t like that Seonghwa doesn’t know. He’s certain that Seonghwa wouldn’t really care either way, but he doesn’t like that he’s hiding something from him. It feels dishonest, even if all he’s doing is withholding information. 

“You there?” Seonghwa asks, snapping Hongjoong out of his thoughts.

Hongjoong smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I just-”

“Hey, Hongjoong-hyung!”

Hongjoong looks up to see San coming down the hallway. Was he there a minute ago? He can’t be sure. 

“He’s younger than us?” Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong nods as he lifts a hand to wave back. “By around a year.” 

Seonghwa hums noncommittally, and Hongjoong is sure that if looked at him, he would probably be pulling a face, but San is here, clapping a hand on his shoulder, and Hongjoong is suddenly a little less wary of Seonghwa’s opinion. 

In a way, Hongjoong knows he probably should be more careful; after all, he’s only known San for not even a full two weeks. However, there’s just something about San that seems so warm and inviting. Sure, Seonghwa will listen to him when he speaks, but there’s always this feeling that Seonghwa isn’t fully listening to him, like he would rather be anywhere else than near him. San is never like that, though; even when they’re talking about nothing, he’s never felt like he had anything less than his full attention when they speak. 

“So, how’s hematology?” San asks.

“Awful,” Hongjoong whines. “Who would’ve thought there’s so much to learn when it comes to blood?”

San smiles. “I can try and walk you through some of the things you’re having trouble with, if you want,” he says. “You probably still have a bit of catching up to do.”

“You’d do that?” Hongjoong asks, and he turns to Seonghwa for a moment to… he isn’t sure what he was going to do. Ask for permission? They’ve gone over some of their work together, but Seonghwa isn’t necessarily the best teacher. 

He and Hongjoong meet eyes for a moment before Seonghwa turns his attention to San. “Make sure he’s back before our next class at three-thirty,” he says, “and if anything happens, you come to me first. No need to run to the nurses for every minor bleed.”

It’s an odd response, or at least it likely sounds odd to San. Hongjoong almost feels guilty for pushing so much responsibility on Seonghwa just by being around sometimes, but he seems to handle it rather well. 

“Of course,” San says, and the two of them head off.

Hongjoong doesn’t look back.

* * *

“So I’ve heard a certain someone is starting fights with the Elites,” San says a few minutes later as they descend the steps to the basement library. “What’s that about?”

“I wish I knew,” Hongjoong replies with a grimace. “Hyunjin-ah is… complicated. I-I’m not really supposed to tell people this, but I knew him when we were younger. Sort of. He might not remember because he was maybe four, but…” He pauses for a moment, smiling sadly. “It’s interesting how Metamorphosis changes people. Or maybe it’s sad.”

“Could be both,” San supplies.

“Yeah. Probably.”

There’s a short pause.

“Oh!” Hongjoong pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. “I forgot to ask you. I found this earlier, and I was going to ask Seonghwa about it, but then all of that stuff with Hyunjin came up and I didn’t have the chance.” He unfolds the paper. “I don’t know if you would know all that much about it, but…” 

Hongjoong trails off as San takes the paper from his hand. For a moment, he can’t read San’s expression, but the younger composes himself before Hongjoong can really think about it. 

“Hongjoong,” San says, voice measured. “Where did you find this?”

Hongjoong looks down at the floor. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? “Well,” he says, “Like I said, I help Siyeon-ssi out with filing sometimes, b-because I can’t exactly do fencing or go riding like Seonghwa can, so she and I were going through some of the cabinets since things get kind of hectic right before and right after the Festival, and I found it, and Siyeon-ssi said it was nothing, but it didn’t _feel_ like nothing, so I-I thought—”

“You thought what?” San asks, and suddenly he’s a lot closer than he was a minute ago. “What did you think you were going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Hongjoong says, risking a glance at San. He can feel the anger radiating off of him, but he can’t stop himself from explaining. “M-my father, he’s on the Council. They held a meeting at our house once, a-and they mentioned… a second immortal.” 

“Are you some sort of bastard child then?” San asks. “You’re telling me a Council member consorted with a human?” 

Hongjoong nods, shame flooding his veins. It’s strange; he’s never felt that before. “I had read about the myth of Eden,” he continues, “a-and I wanted to know if the Council knew anything, so I spied on them. They talked about a-a child.” He locks eyes with San. “The Son of Eden.” 

San clenches his jaw. “And what else?” 

“I don’t remember much,” Hongjoong admits. “They said something about a Clan. A-about protecting their own, but I don’t know what they meant.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re getting into,” San says, tone cold. “Telling you to forget all you’ve heard would be useless, but it would be the only way to save you, I’m afraid.”

“But why?” Hongjoong asks. “I-if this Son of Eden has his own Clan, m-maybe he could—”

San snorts. “Don’t tell me,” he says, lips upturning in a cruel smile. “Don’t tell me you _actually_ think that this mythical Son could grant you eternity.” 

“Why would you say that?” Hongjoong asks, stepping away in shock. “I’ve told you just as much, have I not? I-I have nothing! The only thing keeping me alive is the hope that I could one day find eternity!” 

San laughs, the sound almost echoing off the walls of the library. 

“And why should the Son of Eden help someone of your blood?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like, I feel like there's a huge tonal shift, and I feel like I'm kind of skipping over parts that I shouldn't be skipping over, but I'm still kinda figuring out what works best for this AU as I write, haha. You would think after multiple outline drafts that are each thousands of words long, I would have it down pat, but apparently I do not.  
> Also, I cannot figure out how to space properly on this site for the LIFE of me, so let me know if you like the double space or single space better! Please. 
> 
> Anyway, remember to check out the guide if you're so inclined and follow my twitter for fun updates about my progress!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so idk how this is gonna end up looking because I’m having to post this on my phone.  
> Anyways, I wasn’t sure if I was gonna be able to get this done before the year’s end, but here we are!!!!  
> So this chapter contains suicidal ideation and brief mentions of self-harm. It’s nothing too intense, but just so you know!!  
> To conclude, haha, I’m sorry :)

Hongjoong doesn’t show up to class later that night. Seonghwa tries not to think about it too much, but as the lesson drags on, he finds himself unable to focus on much else. 

“Seonghwa?”

He looks up to see an expectant expression on Hyunwoo’s face.

“Yes?” He asks.

His teacher sighs, and Seonghwa can hear a snort from somewhere to his right.

“I asked you if you could explain to us the difference between empathy in humans and vampires.”

Seonghwa’s hands itch, but he ignores it. “Empathy is more transactional in vampires than in humans,” he answers, recalling what he had read the night prior. “If one thinks that caring for another vampire can give them an advantage while hunting, they’ll feel more inclined to help that other vampire.” He pauses for a moment. “And I think Initiative is involved somehow too, but I don’t remember.”

“Good!” Hyunwoo praises. “And yes, Initiative can also provide vampires with a type of empathetic bond, so if, say, I were to bite Jisung,” he gestures to the younger vampire where he’s sitting, “I would be able to sense Jisung’s distress if he ended up in trouble during an excursion, for example.”

“Please don’t do that,” Jisung says.

“Wouldn’t want to upset Hyunjin,” Seonghwa mutters. 

He can see Jisung’s head snap to his direction out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t acknowledge the younger.

“The reason,” Hyunwoo continues, “is that vampires are a relatively young species, and because they have evolved in a very specific way. While humans are concerned about their fellow man out of instinct, empathy is more of a learned trait for vampires. It’s just part of our biological makeup at the moment. It’s also part of why we’re here today.” He smiles. “We’ve created these Clans as a way of instilling these values in vampires during the most crucial years of their development in the hopes of potentially changing the course of our evolution.”

There’s a short pause while everyone takes notes and digests the information.

“Why are you lying to them, Hyunwoo-ssi?”

Seonghwa tenses. He knows that voice. 

“I’m not sure what you mean, San-ssi,” Hyunwoo says, his smile growing slightly strained.

Seonghwa can hear a chair scrape across the floor behind him and sure enough, moments later San glides past his own desk. Has he been here this whole time?

If he’s here, then _where_ is Hongjoong?

“Vampires didn’t create the Clan system,” San says. “Humans created them because they realized the horror of what they’d done in creating _us_. Why are you keeping the truth from them?”

Seonghwa can hear his classmates murmuring to themselves. What is San talking about?

Hyunwoo’s face drops. “We don’t–”

“You’re lying to them about their own origins,” San says before turning to the class. “No wonder they turn out the way that they do.” He turns back to Hyunwoo. 

“I’m doing you all a favor.”

Before anyone can even begin to ask what that means, San storms out of the room. For a moment, Seonghwa considers going after him simply to ask where Hongjoong is, but he feels frozen in place. 

Hyunwoo watches the door for a moment, his expression a mix of frustration and mild anxiety. He blinks, turning back to the class.

“Right then,” he says. “Where were we?”

* * *

Hongjoong is no stranger to despair episodes.

It’s one of the very few things that all dhampirs, regardless of their composition, have in common. 

_“Your blood is tainted.”_

The words usually wouldn’t bother him. Other students have told him just as much before, but to hear them come from San’s mouth… it’s different. It hurts more. 

_“You know how the others say that you smell like a rat? Like a plague rat? That’s because they don’t know the smell of the plague itself. The smell of death, of decay.”_

Hongjoong flinches as if he could still hear San, as if the young man were in here with him. Belatedly, he realizes that he probably sounds pathetic, nearly hysteric on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t have it in him to care. 

Beyond that, Hongjoong just feels dirty. Not just that— he feels _unclean._ Impure. Diseased. 

_“You’re a_ disease _, Hongjoong. You carry the scent of death in your blood.”_

He can’t really say how he even left the library. He’s not sure how he ended up in the showers either, and yet here he is on the shower floor, scrubbing at his skin until it’s raw so that maybe he’ll stop feeling so disgusting. It doesn’t feel fair. It doesn’t feel fair that he was born as a dhampir, and into a noble household no less. None of it feels _fair,_ and even the mere thought makes him feel petulant. Like a whiny child. 

Isn’t that all he’s ever been, though? His father had certainly thought so. 

It would be so easy to just make it all stop. The thought has crossed his mind from time to time, but during despair episodes, it’s brought to the forefront of Hongjoong’s mind. The Clan bars any of the students from having access to any sharp objects-- for obvious reasons-- so unfortunately, it wouldn’t be quite as easy as he would prefer. But surely, if he’d banged his head against the hard tile hard enough a few times, that could do something, couldn’t it? 

Hongjoong digs his fingers into his legs, pressing down hard enough to bruise. It’s a habit he picked up long ago, when he first started having the episodes in earnest. The pain is grounding, in a way, and seeing the bruises later fills him with a strange sense of satisfaction. 

He can hear someone entering the showers, but it sounds far away, as if he himself isn’t even in there. What if they see him? Are they even going to care? He doubts it. 

Suddenly, the water shuts off. 

“Get up.”

Hongjoong looks up. 

“Hyung,” he says, voice hoarse. “Why are you here?”

Jungkook crouches down. “I could ask you the same,” he says. “Now, come on.”

He stands, holding out a hand. Hongjoong doesn’t move. 

“You don’t have to help me,” he says. “I know you don’t want to.”

Jungkook grabs his arm, yanking him upwards. Hongjoong stumbles, crashing into his older brother, who sighs in contempt. 

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Jungkook says, his words practically dripping with venom. “You’re lucky Christopher is the one that found you.”

“When was he here?” Hongjoong says, trying to recall if he’d heard anyone come in. How long has he been here?

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook replies, holding put a clump of fabric. “What the hell are you doing? Are you really this shameless?” 

Hongjoong looks at the fistful of clothing that Jungkook is holding for a moment before grabbing it. “What does that mean?” He asks. “Everyone here already hates me, what does it matter?”

Jungkook sighs. “Everything is always about _you,_ isn’t it?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hongjoong asks, shakily dressing himself. “What are you even talking about? I have to hide that I’m related to you from _everyone_ . No one here knows anything about where I’ve come from; all they know is that I’m a _bastard_ dhampir.”

“This is bigger than just _you_ , Hongjoong,” Jungkook replies impatiently. “I thought you knew that.”

“And why?!” Hongjoong asks, desperation seeping into his voice. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask to be born into this family! I carry so much of this around with me, and I hate it!” His voice breaks. He inhales shakily. “Every part of it.”

“None of us ask for this,” Jungkook says. 

Hongjoong clenches his jaw. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

He can’t stay here. There’s no use in continuing to argue and they both know it. With that, he turns and leaves the room without looking back.

* * *

By the time class is dismissed, Seonghwa already has a plan. The best place to start his search, in his opinion, would be their own room. If Hongjoong isn’t there, the next place to check would definitely be the infirmary. 

Seonghwa runs through the list of places to look as he speedwalks down the hallways toward the dormitory. Absently, he thinks about how this is probably the first time he’s thought this hard about... anything, really. Obviously, he’s done his best to apply himself in his classes, but that’s never been very difficult; he’s managed to tie with some of the special-class kids academically, much to their dismay. He doesn’t really know what to do with that realization, if he’s fully honest. He isn’t sure that now is the right time to ponder it. 

Seonghwa can tell something is off as soon as he opens the door to the room. 

“Hongjoong-ah,” he calls softly, stepping closer to the bed on the left side of the room. “Hongjoong, are you awake?”

As he steps closer, the scratching noise grows slightly louder, and he can hear Hongjoong mumbling to himself under his breath. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa says, “is something wrong?”

He places a tentative hand on where he assumes Hongjoong’s shoulder is, and the younger freezes. Seonghwa moves his hand away, as if he had been burned, and finds his glove damp. 

“Are you okay?” He tries again. “You’re… wet.”

The more he looks, the more Seonghwa realizes exactly what he’s seeing. Hongjoong’s entire body, or at least what he can see, is _sopping_ wet, but he hardly seems to notice Seonghwa is even there, only absently staring at the wall, presumably still scratching… something. 

“Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says, taking a chance and moving the blanket, and that’s what does it.

Hongjoong bolts upright, as if he’d been caught, and Seonghwa can see why he could hear scratching; the younger’s arms are a bright, angry red, as if he had been clawing at his skin for hours, which he likely has. 

“What,” Hongjoong says, and he sounds like he’s hardly even there. 

“You missed class,” Seonghwa replies, unsure of what to say. “What… what happened to you? You look…” 

“I need to get it out,” Hongjoong says.

“What are you talking about?”

“The blood,” Hongjoong replies, as if it’s obvious, inhaling shakily. “I need it to get out. I-I don’t want it anymore.” 

Seonghwa is confused. “Hongjoong, that’s not–”

“I don’t want it,” Hongjoong says, and it’s like he’s crumbling in front of Seonghwa, who simply can’t look away. “I-I can’t do it. I didn’t ask for a-any of this.”

Seonghwa has seen his fair share of despair episodes; they were practically a daily affair in the orphanage, spreading around the home like a plague. He’d never been affected by any of the snivelling dhampir children he’d encountered in the past, however.

But here, now, it feels different, raw in a way that he can’t quite describe. 

“W-what do you mean?” Seonghwa asks, “What happened?”

“I-I don’t want to be here anymore,” Hongjoong says in between sobs, and Seonghwa feels like he’s watching a building burn to the ground in front of him. The orphanage he grew up in, engulfed in flames with all the crying children inside, and he can do nothing but watch.

“I c-can’t be what they want,” Hongjoong continues. “I’m _nothing_ to them.” 

“Who said that?” Seonghwa asks, his own mind feeling clouded with emotion. “Hongjoong-ah, I want to help, but I can’t if you don’t tell me what’s happening.”

“B-but then,” Hongjoong continues, as if he’d never heard Seonghwa, “at the same time, I’m _so scared of dying._ I-I don’t want to die! I don’t.”

“You aren’t going to die,” Seonghwa says in a feeble attempt to comfort the younger. “Not right now.”

“But I could,” Hongjoong replies. “I-it could be so easy. So fast. Do you ever think about that? H-have you thought about it?”

Seonghwa feels something crawl up his spine. “Thought about what?”

“Killing me,” Hongjoong says. “It would be s-so _easy,_ hyung. A-and no one would even resent you for it! Th-they would thank you, I think.”

Seonghwa shakes his head, disgust turning his stomach. “Don’t say that,” he says. “I wouldn’t _ever–_ ”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” Hongjoong says. “Not if it were you.”

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say to that. 

It’s then that he realizes that no, he’d not had a single intrusive thought relating to Hongjoong. Not once.

“I wish I was more like you, hyung,” Hongjoong says. “You don’t… feel things. Not in the way I do.” He laughs and it sounds like he’s choking. “I feel everything. You don’t feel anything at all.”

“That’s not true–”

Before Seonghwa can fully defend himself, Hongjoong leans forward, pressing his hand to Seonghwa’s chest. 

“Do you have it?” He asks.

“Do I have what?” 

“That _hole,_ ” Hongjoong says, “that aching _void_ in your chest. Do you have it?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“You’re _lying_ ,” Hongjoong says. “Don’t lie to me, hyung. Not you, too.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Seonghwa replies, tone firm. “I’ve no reason to.”

“Of course,” Hongjoong says, tone dripping with sarcasm. “How stupid of me.”

“Hongjoong-ah, this isn’t like you, we should–”

“But it is,” Hongjoong whispers, as if he’s sharing a secret. “It’s always like this.” He brings his hand back to his own chest. “It always hurts, hyung. _Always._ Even when I pretend it doesn’t. I’m scared that one day it’s just going to swallow me whole.”

Seonghwa doesn’t know why he does it. Call it instinct, perhaps. He reaches out and pulls Hongjoong closer to him, all but cradling the younger against his chest. 

“I have nothing,” Hongjoong says, melting into the embrace. “I’ll leave here with nothing, if I ever leave at all.”

“You have me,” Seonghwa says. “You have me.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))
> 
> Right, so, there’s gonna a bit more, like, serious stuff going on from here on out. I’m probably gonna go and fix up the tags at some point before 5 goes up, but with the start of the year and shit, everything is really hectic.  
> Again, my twitter is poisonhwa if you’re interested in updates on my progress. I’ve taken to occasionally posting tiny snippets while I’m working, so if you want to see those, give me a follow!! I follow most people back, with the exception of minors or anyone that doesn’t list their age and pronouns in their bio.  
> Hope everyone has a good new year!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeeyyyyyy  
> It's really late and I'm tired, but I wanted to work on this because I feel bad for dragging this story out lmao  
> So this one is getting a little more into the nitty-gritty, I guess. Less fluff, more actual plot stuff.  
> Also, hi, yes, Stray Kids have been added to this in earnest because Hwang Hyunjin held a gun to my head and said "you're a Stay now," and I said, "yes sir, right away sir." So they're here, they'll be in Wryness of Purity, and Hyunjin and Chan have a side story, sort of, that I really wanna do.  
> There's mentions of biting in this one. This is probably the most sanitized version of this scene that I have planned out, but there are mentions of biting. Nothing gory, though. Maybe I'll get to that next time.  
> Also, just like, in case, Myungdeuk is Hongjoong's (and Jungkook's) father's name. Idk if there're any idols named Jeon Myungdeuk, if there are, that's unintentional, that's just the man's name.  
> ALSO also, i did go back and make a few fixes to previous chapters, and if you didn't notice, i also updated the tags for this story. please take note of these changes! it's nothing too major, but you know. yeah. thanks! have fun! there's a lot of Talking in this one.

Hongjoong hardly leaves Seonghwa’s side in the days following the incident.

They share a majority of their classes already, so they’re usually together for most of the evening as it is. During breaks, they usually end up somewhere on the grounds together. 

“I didn’t realize this place was so big,” Seonghwa says one evening. “Who knew that there was a whole other wing to the building?”

Hongjoong smiles. “I had to find something to do when you’re in fencing,” he explains. “Can’t really go outside because it’s too dark, and stairs aren’t always... doable.” 

It makes sense, but Seonghwa still feels a pang of guilt for not fully understanding how limited Hongjoong is because of his condition. Should he be doing more? 

They’ve not really discussed the incident. Seonghwa is fairly certain that San has something to do with what happened, but he hasn’t seen him anywhere, and Hongjoong seems to deliberately avoid the basement library. It certainly isn’t like Seonghwa hasn’t had the opportunity to ask, but he finds himself hesitating to get the words out whenever there’s a lull in conversation. 

Hongjoong is doing well, better than he was before, Seonghwa thinks. Why would he want to mess that up? 

Clanfest is mere days away now, and while Seonghwa doesn’t feel the need to put in any extra preparation for the fencing competition, Kihyun has been working all of them to the bone, running over time more days than not. And it certainly doesn’t help that their yearly exams are so close to Clanfest as well. The students’ exhaustion is palpable throughout the Clan; the cafeteria has grown quieter during meals, the hallways nearly silent save for the sound of shuffling feet. 

Something that Seonghwa has noticed, however, is that Hongjoong seems largely unaffected. It likely has more to do with his exemption from this year’s exams because of his late arrival, but he’s… unusually chipper. 

Like he has something to hide, like there’s something he’s trying to cover up. 

The cracks start to show one evening while they’re studying. The two somehow managed to find some space in the common area on the ground floor, and while Hongjoong might not be the best study partner, Seonghwa appreciates the effort.

“Hey hyung, do you think our dreams ever mean anything?” Hongjoong asks suddenly.

Seonghwa looks up from his hematology textbook. “Not usually,” he replies. “I’ve never thought about it. Why do you ask?”

Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows in concentration. “I’m trying to figure out how to word this,” he says. “I’ve been having weird dreams lately. They all feel connected, but I don’t know. It’s just… really odd.” 

“What kind of dreams?” Seonghwa asks.

“Like,” Hongjoong pauses. “There are always flowers. And sometimes the dreams are good, and everyone is happy, and we’re all in this endless garden, right? And then other times it’s… different.” Hongjoong meets Seonghwa’s eyes. “The flowers are all dead, a-and there’s blood everywhere? And sometimes I can hear screaming, but it always sounds far away. Sometimes, I can taste blood in my mouth, but I know it isn’t mine. I don’t know what it means.”

Perhaps he isn’t doing as well as Seonghwa had originally thought. 

“Have you tried asking Minji-ssi or Bora-ssi about it?” He asks.

Hongjoong shrugs. “It feels pathetic to go to them about weird dreams,” he says. “Like, surely they have enough to deal with.” He leans forward, as if he’s sharing a secret. “And this sounds stupid, I’m sure, but I feel like telling anyone about the dreams is… bad. Like I’m going to get in trouble if anyone knows.”

“The doctors are here to help you, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa reassures. “If it’s stressing you out, don’t wait to do something about it.”

“I guess,” Hongjoong concedes. “Tomorrow night I’ll go to them.” 

And that’s that for a while. The rest of the night passes uneventfully, but Seonghwa can’t shake the imagery that Hongjoong described. Surely, it doesn’t mean anything, but at the same time...

“Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa looks over at where Hongjoong is sitting on his bed, and the two of them lock eyes for a moment before the younger averts his gaze, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Have you ever thought about how vampires used to be immortal?” Hongjoong asks.

Seonghwa raises a brow in confusion. “Were they?” 

“A long time ago,” Hongjoong says. “But yeah.” He pauses for a moment, as if he’s hesitant to continue. “What do you think that would be like?”

“Why do you ask?”

Hongjoong shrugs. “It’s been on my mind, I guess,” he says. “Like, wouldn’t it be nice to stay here, like this, forever?”

Seonghwa can think of very few things more unappealing than being stuck in an eternal Metamorphosis, but he holds his tongue. 

“I mean,” Hongjoong continues, rushing to explain himself, “obviously Metamorphosis sucks, sure, but for me, compared to everything I’ve gained just from being here… I have to ask myself if it’s really that bad.”

Seonghwa can’t help but think back to the incident, now a full week in the past. He can’t help but remember Hongjoong telling him that he couldn’t handle being alive anymore only a handful of days ago. Is the risk really worth whatever reward Hongjoong has in mind? 

“People know who I am here,” Hongjoong says. “I know not all of them like me very much, but at least they know I exist. Like, no matter what happens to me, people will still know I was here, you know? And that means a lot to me, especially because I don’t know where I’d go after this is over.” Hongjoong meets Seonghwa’s eyes once again. “Have you thought about that? Where are you going when you graduate?”

Seonghwa is taken by surprise, although he can’t quite place why. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve not thought that far ahead, and no one seems to want to discuss it usually.” 

“I’m worried that I’ll end up back home,” Hongjoong says, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Back into the shadows. I… I don’t know what that’s going to do, if it happens. I don’t think I could handle finally having freedom, only to have it taken away from me again.” 

“Do you think your father will force you to go back?” 

Hongjoong snorts. “Who knows with that man, honestly,” he says. “I don’t even know why he would want me there.”

Seonghwa has a thought. 

“We could always leave together,” he says. “I-I don’t know where we’d go, I have no idea where we’d be allowed, but it’s worth trying, don’t you think?”

Hongjoong’s entire face lights up. “You’d do that?” He asks incredulously. “You would do that for me?”

“For both of us,” Seonghwa replies, and it shocks him how easily he’s able to say it, how much he means it. 

Hongjoong smiles. “I’d like that,” he says. “I’d like that a lot.”

* * *

Hongjoong has never really known how to talk to Jungkook.

They never interacted much in the first place, to be fair. Hongjoong isn’t quite sure what their father has told his older brother about him, but he assumes it can’t be good. 

“Jungkook-ssi has always been a little… uptight, I suppose,” one of the staff had told him once. “He grew up with a heavy weight on his shoulders, Joong-ah. His only options were to toughen up or buckle under that weight.” 

Hongjoong thinks about that sometimes. If things were different, would he be in Jungkook’s position? Would he even want that kind of responsibility?

“Can you tell me where we’re going now?” Hongjoong asks, trying his best to keep up with his brother’s brisk pace. 

Jungkook sighs audibly. “Father wants to see you,” he repeats.

“I know that, but why?”

Jungkook looks over his shoulder. “If I knew, I would tell you.” 

“Would you?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, and the two fall back into silence as they traverse the halls of the Clan. 

Hongjoong had woken up just as the sun was setting to a knock on the door, and Jungkook had offered him very little explanation of what was going on. What would his father want to say to him? Hongjoong racks his brain, trying to figure out if he’s done anything wrong. He’s hardly even spoken to anyone outside of Seonghwa, so he can’t imagine he’s upset anyone. Are his grades not good enough? He’s trying his best, surely his father would understand that, wouldn’t he? 

He doesn’t have much time to think about it before the two approach a door. They’re in the front of the building, Hongjoong thinks, the area that’s reserved primarily for intake, administration, and visitors. He’s never been here before, at least not from this perspective. Jungkook opens the door, and they enter a small room reserved for visitation. The room is dimly lit, and while Hongjoong gets it, vampires don’t really need much artificial light, it makes it really difficult to see. 

But sure enough, his father is there. Hongjoong takes a deep breath. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Myungdeuk says, “you can go. I’d hate to keep you from your studies.”

Jungkook hesitates. “Are you–”

Myungdeuk gives him a stern look, and Jungkook bows shortly before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

“Hongjoong, my dear boy,” Myungdeuk says, smiling warmly. “I’ve missed you.”

The confession takes Hongjoong off-guard. “Have you?” He asks. “I-I can’t imagine there’s much to miss.”

Myungdeuk sighs. “I know I’ve not done my best to show it,” he says, “but I promise you that you are very precious to me, and your absence has certainly had an effect on everyone back home, myself included.” 

“Why have you come here?” Hongjoong asks, tamping down his emotion. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Nothing you could have helped,” Myungdeuk says, and Hongjoong tenses. “But I assure you, I’m not here to punish you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong asks. 

Myungdeuk leans back in his chair. “Hongjoong-ah, I think it’s time that things began to change,” he says. “Of course, your older brother is all set to succeed me in the Council, but I believe I can find a seat at the table for you as well.”

The proposition is appealing, in a way, but Hongjoong is cautious. “But why?”

“As I said, you’re important to me,” Myungdeuk explains. “And I understand that I’ve treated you poorly.” He locks eyes with Hongjoong, his expression sincere. “I’ve locked everyone out in my grief, and I shouldn’t have done that to you.”  
  


“Father…”

“I don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive me,” Myungdeuk continues, “but I want to make things right. And the best way I can think to do that is to bring you out of hiding.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen. “Y-you’re willing to do that,” he asks, “for me?”

“I’d do whatever it takes for you to accept me,” Myungdeuk says, leaning forward. “I’ve received reports of your progress here, and I can’t begin to explain to you how proud I am to have you as my son. I don’t want you to live in hiding any more than you want to continue living this way. What do you say?”

* * *

By the time Seonghwa wakes up, Hongjoong is already gone. 

It probably doesn’t mean anything. Realistically, Seonghwa knows it probably isn’t a big deal. 

And yet. 

And yet he can’t shake the feeling that something might be wrong, the feeling that he should probably go look for the younger. It wouldn’t hurt to check, say, the infirmary, right? If something is wrong, Hongjoong would want him to be there, he thinks. Wouldn’t he?

Seonghwa certainly wants him to. 

He makes his way to the infirmary, and if he checks a few empty rooms or peeks around a few corners along the way, who’s going to know? He’s not freaking out, he’s certain that everything is perfectly fine. 

Seonghwa doesn’t know if he feels better or worse when the infirmary is empty. Even as he ventures further into the room, he can’t see or hear anyone else around. Hongjoong definitely isn’t here. 

“Can I help you?”

Seonghwa turns around, startled. 

The young man in front of him takes a small step backwards, and Seonghwa eyes him suspiciously. He’s around Hongjoong’s height, probably, with a halo of dark curls that would probably make him look disheveled if he didn’t exude an air of professionalism. 

“I was just,” Seonghwa says, stumbling over his words, “looking for my friend.”

“Hongjoong-ah’s family came to see him,” the young man says.

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows in surprise. “How did you–”

“We’re familiar with each other,” the young man answers. “I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris, some of the others call me Chan, whichever is fine. You’re Seonghwa, yes?”

_“How_ do you–”

Chan laughs. “You probably won’t believe me, but Hyunjin-ah talks about you quite a bit.”

Oh no.

“He _what?”_

“Nothing bad!” Chan clarifies quickly. “Not really. It’s… complicated, I guess, but you’re in good company here, I promise.”

“Are we talking about the same Hyunjin?” Seonghwa asks. 

Chan smiles. “We only have one,” he says. “I’ve kind of meant to talk to you at some point, the opportunity’s just always… escaped me, I guess. I know you two have some sort of rivalry, or whatever, but I mean, that’s all it really is, isn’t it?”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“He doesn’t hate you, is what I’m trying to say. Like, not really. I know he can be abrasive, but he’s kind of just like that with everyone. Even me sometimes, you know?” 

Seonghwa nods despite not fully understanding what the elder is saying. “Why are you telling me this?” He asks. 

Chan hesitates for a moment before leaning in, as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’m just–”

“Hyung.”

There’s a voice from the entrance of the infirmary. The two turn around. 

Hyunjin is standing in the entryway, and even from a distance Seonghwa can tell something is wrong. He can see the younger gripping at his neck as if he’s injured, and Seonghwa can’t figure out what that’s about.

And then the scent of blood hits his nose. 

“Hyunjin,” Chan says, his tone changing drastically as he walks forward. “What happened, are you okay?”

Hyunjin takes a short step forward before his legs seem to give out from under him. Unconsciously, Seonghwa moves forward as Chan catches Hyunjin, both of them kneeling on the floor. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Chan says, cradling the younger’s head in one hand. “You’re going to be okay. What happened?”

Shakily, Hyunjin moves his hand from his neck, and Seonghwa feels the air in the room turn to ice. 

Puncture wounds. 

“Who did this to you?” Chan asks, horror twisting his expression. 

Hyunjin doesn’t speak, breath still ragged as his free hand finds a home on his shoulder, almost as if he’s trying to soothe himself. 

“Does it hurt?” Seonghwa asks. 

“It shouldn’t,” Chan answers. “The initial bite does, sure, but the body usually numbs it shortly afterward. He’s probably just in shock; he doesn’t do well with pain.”

“I,” Hyunjin says before stopping, as if he’d cut himself off. “I can’t.”

“You can’t what, Jinnie?” Chan asks. 

Hyunjin moves his hand to his mouth, tapping at his lips. Seonghwa tries not to flinch as he notices that he’s spreading his own blood all over his mouth. 

“Okay,” Chan says. “It’s okay, we can worry about that later.”

“You need to leave,” Hyunjin says, hardly intelligible from where Seonghwa is standing. He looks at Chan, eyes filling with a desperate urgency. “Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere, what are you talking about?” Chan asks.

Hyunjin grits his teeth, as if whatever he’s trying to say is causing him physical pain. “They’re coming,” he chokes out. “You can’t be here.”

“Hyunjin–”

“Trying to find a workaround, are we?”

Seonghwa recognizes that voice. He looks up to see San entering the room, glaring daggers at Hyunjin.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” 

“Why are _you_ here?” Chan asks sharply. “Why have you come back? Haven’t you taken enough from us?”

Seonghwa steps forward. “What are you talking about? He’s only been here two weeks or so.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Chan replies, eyes not leaving San. “He was here a year ago.” He looks over at Seonghwa. “I can see why you’d be confused, though. Before, he was only here long enough to add another kid to his little collection.”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?!” Hyunjin snaps, turning to face San. “Is that why you fucking bit me?”

San just laughs, as if the entire situation is funny. For a moment, none of them say anything. 

“For a special-class Elite,” San says at last, enunciating every word, “you aren’t very smart, are you?”

“San, I will ensure that you get whatever it is you’re looking for,” Chan says, “but you’re not taking him.”

“That very noble of you, Christopher,” San replies, “but if you were paying attention, I only bit him to shut him up.” He leans down, looking at Hyunjin with a sardonic expression. “I figured he’d try to tell someone, and I can’t have that.” 

“So you’re using your Initiative to gag him,” Chan says. “What’s so important that you’d have to do that?”

San straightens. “The whole point was to keep you from finding out,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “I suppose that’s not going to work now, is it?” 

“Find out about what?” Seonghwa asks. 

San looks up, grinning. “It’s been a while, hyung,” he says. “How’ve you been?”

“What are you hiding, San?” 

San rolls his eyes. “You’re all so _serious,”_ he complains, sighing. “The Order is coming to Clanfest, and, yes, they’d be here anyway, but they’re planning a sacrifice. To lure Eden to them, or whatever it is they’re trying to do.”

“The Order?” Seonghwa asks.

“The Order of the Black Rose,” Chan explains. “They’re a cult within the Council, they’re a bunch of disgusting individuals that think abusing their own children is in their nature as vampires.” 

“More or less,” San says. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them for a while, and it looks like they’re planning on performing a specific ritual to summon Eden in another attempt to destroy him. The ritual they have in mind requires three sacrifices of a particular kind.”

“Which is?” Chan asks.

“They’re looking for dhampirs,” San says. “I’ll let you figure out who they’ve got their eye on.”

Wait.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, mostly to himself. 

They’re going to kill Hongjoong. 

San hums. “Has he not told you?” He asks. “Hongjoong is the son of Jeon Myungdeuk. Other members of the Order found out, and they’re very unhappy with him. Can you believe that he would hold out on them like that?” 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Seonghwa asks. 

“To avoid this exact situation, I’m sure,” San says. “He’s told you that his existence was a secret, didn’t he? Bringing him here was a risk in itself, and look what’s happened. He’s putting two other lives in danger now, including yours.”

“Who’s the third, then? Seungyoun?” 

“No,” Chan says, tone defeated. “That would be me.” 

“But you aren’t a dhampir,” Hyunjin says incredulously. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Chan doesn’t say anything for a moment, and San paces around the room for a moment.

“See, there’s something you have to know about the Order of the Black Rose,” San says. “Surely, Hyunjin-ah, you already know it, but let’s just pretend, yeah? They could give whatever explanation they wanted for the things that they do. They can blame their sadism on biology, on the way they were made, on Eden, or Damien, it doesn’t matter. The real reason they do what they do is because they enjoy it. Immensely. They’re like children playing with toys.” He moves closer to Chan, circling the two on the floor like prey. “And if they find out that one of their members has been stashing away their own brand-new, shiny, _uncorrupted_ toy, well,” he crouches down, locking eyes with Hyunjin, “they’re going to have to punish _someone,_ don’t you think?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Hyunjin asks, eyes brimming with tears.   
  


“They’re going through with the sacrifice because someone found out about Hongjoong,” Chan explains. “The Order is mad that Myungdeuk has been keeping him a secret, much like how they were when they found out my father kept my dhampir status from them, but now that they have their hands on three of us–”

“It’s the perfect opportunity to enact their ultimate plan,” San finishes. “To carry out Damien’s will, if you will.”

“But none of that is real!” Hyunjin yells. “Eden, Damien, they aren’t real! They’re just myths.”

San chuckles. “Oh, how I wish you were right,” he says. “I’m sure you wish they were just stories. I did, once. A very long time ago.” 

“How do you even know all of this?” Seonghwa asks. 

“Yeah, San,” Chan says. “Why don’t you tell them how you know?” 

San grimaces. “I suppose there’s no point dancing around it,” he concedes. “In a way, protecting the balance of our kind has become my job. Have to make sure dear old dad’s heart is at peace and all, you know?”

“Who _are_ you?” Seonghwa asks.

“I’ve had many names over the years,” San says. “Or, well, it’s been more like centuries now, I suppose. It’s weird to see a… _mythos_ build up around your existence, you know, but it’s certainly entertaining.” 

He pauses for a moment. No one says anything. 

“The name that the public seems to agree on, however,” San continues, “would be the Son of Eden.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt is still poisonhwa, but i kinda had a breakdown and deleted all my shit, so the visual guide is currently down. i also have to update my carrd, but if you're gonna check out my twt, PLEASe check out the carrd, it's really important to me. okay i'm gonna go wash my hair vigorously at 2 am.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so this is more or less a gigantic info-dump, I'm sorry SDJLDKGJ
> 
> Oh yeah, TW for stabbing. Like, it happens and it's done. There's a few mentions of injuries, but I'm squeamish (for now) so it's just a few brief mentions of blood. 
> 
> We're getting a little closer to the end, and I have an idea of where we're gonna pick back up, so I'll hopefully start in the next few days, so maybe we'll get another update before the end of the month???? I'd like to do that, but I also really, REALLY wanna get Wryness up before its first birthday. That's right; I've literally been planning this fic for a full year on the 21st. So we'll see! Maybe I'll do both. BIG maybe.

“You’re lying.”

Seonghwa looks over at Hyunjin. 

“And how do you know that, Hyunjin-ah?” San asks, crossing his arms with an amused expression. “Is there something you know that I don’t?”

“I already told you,” Hyunjin retorts, “none of those things are real. You can’t be the Son, because he doesn’t fucking exist.” 

“Alright,” San says. “Then prove it.” 

Hyunjin tenses for a moment before walking across the room. He finds a glass jar along the counter wall, inspects it for a moment, before dropping it, pieces of broken glass scattering across the floor. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Hyunjin mutters, as if he’s speaking to himself as he picks up a large shard of glass off the floor. 

“Hey,” Chan says, standing up. “Hyunjin, what are you doing?”

“Exactly what’s been asked of me,” Hyunjin says, walking closer to San, who drops his arms. 

“What do you—”

Before Chan can finish his sentence, Hyunjin lunges forward, almost effortlessly slicing San’s throat with the shard of glass. 

Seonghwa isn’t sure how to react, frozen in place. Chan acts quickly, placing himself in between Hyunjin and San. 

“Hyunjin, what the  _ hell—” _

“He told me to do it!” Hyunjin says, pointing to San. “He did.” 

It’s then that Seonghwa takes a look at San, who’s miraculously still on his feet. There’s blood pouring from the wound across his neck, but San hardly reacts. The smell is almost choking him, even from across the room. Seonghwa can see his mouth moving minutely, but he can’t figure out what San is saying. 

And then after a moment, San smiles, bringing his sleeve up to his neck to wipe at the wound. And then Seonghwa slowly realizes in horror that the wound is completely gone. 

And San just laughs. 

Hyunjin and Chan turn back to him, startled by the sound. 

“Do you believe me now?” San asks. “Or do you want to do it again?”

Hyunjin steps forward, only for Chan to hold him back. 

“I think you’ve made your point,” Chan says. 

“So, you can’t die,” Seonghwa says, trying to piece things together. 

“Essentially,” San replies. “I’m sure Eden could make that happen if he really wanted to, but he doesn’t seem too keen on that.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa says. “And who is Eden,exactly?”

“How do you not know who Eden is?” Hyunjin asks. “Are you really that stupid?”

“I guess,” Seonghwa deadpans. “So enlighten me.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “He’s the first vampire,” he explains. “All of us relate back to him one way or another, allegedly.” 

“Around two thousand years ago, the humans came upon him,” Chan says. “They tried to destroy him, but no matter what they did, Eden wouldn’t die. The remaining humans lured Eden to a river of pitch and set him on fire, hoping to burn him to death.” He grimaces. “He’d burned for days, and his ash spread across the nearby human village. Within a week, they’d either turned or been killed in the resulting bloodbath.”

Seonghwa shudders at the thought.

“Those that survived soon discovered that they, too, possessed immortality,” Chan continues. “Within a few years, war broke out between those vampires and humans who wanted their power. The war went on for nearly a century before one night, it all just… stopped.”

“Thousands of immortals had taken their lives,” Hyunjin says. “It was as if they’d been commanded to do it. No one has an answer for what happened.” He looks over at San. “That’s what I don’t get. If he killed all the immortals, why would Eden turn around and make you?”

San shrugs. “If he ever feels like telling me, I’ll let you know,” he says, stepping toward Seonghwa. “Anyway, yes, that’s the short version. And then, I don’t know, some 400 years ago, Eden turned me during my Metamorphosis, and now I can’t die, as Hyunjin was kind enough to demonstrate.” 

“Yes, but why you?” Chan asks. “You, specifically. What significance do you hold?”

“Again, I wouldn’t know,” San retorts. “He’s a man of very few words. He pulled me from this same Clan, made me the second remaining immortal, and then left me in the middle of the woods.”

Chan tenses, staring at San with an unreadable expression.

“Is that what you did to  _ him?” _

San raises a brow, smirking. “Elaborate.”

“You know I can’t. I don’t know  _ how, _ but you’ve erased nearly all trace of him.”

“Well, clearly I missed a few things then, didn’t I, Christopher?” San replies. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking.” 

“You know who I’m talking about, so just  _ tell me.”  _

San smiles, his expression almost fond. “I’d never do such a thing to him,” he says. “He’s safe with me. He’s happy with me, and I intend to keep him that way.”

“And Changbin?” Chan presses. “Does he get a happy ending too? Or are you fine with leaving him to rot in that  _ hell _ Clan because of you?”

“Changbin?” Hyunjin asks, stepping closer to Chan, and if Seonghwa didn’t know any better, he’d say the younger is scared. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

“Far away from here,” Chan reassures. “You made sure of that, didn’t you, San?”

San pauses for a moment, looking deep in thought. 

“Do you want to see him?” San asks at last. “All of us, we could go and see him. We could live together in our own Clan. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Hyunjin says.

“Oh?” San says. “That right? Then you can go.”

For a moment, Hyunjin looks at San in confusion before his expression contorts with what looks like pain. And then, without a word, Hyunjin leaves. 

“Why did you do that?” Chan asks. “You realize he’s  _ bleeding _ , right?”

San gestures to his own blood-stained uniform. “How could I forget?”

“Shit,” Chan mutters. He walks over to the counter on the other side of the room, frantically gathering supplies. Within seconds, he’s walking out of the infirmary. 

“Don’t think this is over,” he says.

“Of course not,” San calls over his shoulder before locking eyes with Seonghwa. 

“Looks like it’s just us now.”

He takes a step forward. Seonghwa takes a step back.

San chuckles. “What do you think I’m going to do, hm?” He asks, tone condescending. “You’re a smart kid; surely you don’t need to be reminded to keep a secret.” He smiles wryly. “You already know an awful lot about that, don’t you?”

Seonghwa clenches his jaw. “What did you do to Hongjoong?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about,” San says, clasping his hands in front of him. “I didn’t do anything that no one’s done before, I promise you. I only… reminded him of his place.”

“He  _ trusted _ you,” Seonghwa hisses through gritted teeth. “And you hurt him.” 

“Seonghwa, he trusts so blindly,” San says. “He’s too naive for his own good. I mean, he trusts  _ you; _ that should tell you everything you need to know.”

“How did you find out?”

San laughs. “You know most of the kids are scared of you,” he says. “Hell, even Hyunjin’s wary of you when he thinks no one’s paying attention. He’s… interesting, that one. Anyway, when did you plan on telling Hongjoong?”

“He doesn’t need to know,” Seonghwa says quickly.

“Oh?” San asks, his tone lifting with intrigue. “You think he doesn’t need to know that his precious hyung is a killer?”

Seonghwa doesn’t say anything. 

“Do you think his father has told him yet?” San says, crossing his arms pensively. Seonghwa feels his entire body turn to ice. “You know, I’ve learned more just watching over you guys than I’m sure any of you have learned in the last few weeks. That one kid, he’s rooming with Hyunjin actually, I believe. He’s a hunter.”

Jisung? 

“Why would we have a vampire hunter here?” Seonghwa asks. 

“You all usually have at least one,” San says. “Mainly just as an extra set of hands in case things go south too fast for the staff to get to the situation. This one, though, I’m afraid he’s working with the other hunters.” 

“And what’s  _ their _ plan?” 

“It depends who you ask, I’d think,” San replies. “They could very well be looking for me. We won’t know until Clanfest, probably. It’d be the best time to stage a raid, wouldn’t it? Humans could easily sneak in.”

“And that’s not going to interfere with whatever you’re planning?”

San smiles. “How’d you know I was planning anything?”

“Why else would you be here?” Seonghwa asks.

“See? Like I said, you’re smart.” San rights his posture, inhaling deeply. “I’m taking out the Order. All of them. They’re already on their way here, are they not? It’s the perfect opportunity.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows. “By yourself? You’re going to take on several grown men all by yourself?”

San snorts. “What are they going to do? Stab me? You saw how that goes.”

It makes sense, but something about it still worried Seonghwa. 

“What if you fail?” Seonghwa asks. 

“You have such little faith in me,” San says, a whiny lilt to his tone. “I won’t, especially now that I have the perfect bait in my control.” 

“You’re disgusting,” Seonghwa says. 

“They’re not gonna hurt him,” San says, exasperated. “They’ve done more than enough to him, I think.” He pauses. “Of course, I wouldn’t be averse to another set of hands.” San closes the gap between the two of them in two strides. “And I know you have some experience.”

He extends his hand.

“How about it?”

* * *

Hongjoong ends up in Jungkook’s room after his conversation with his father. 

He could go back to his own room. He  _ should _ go back to his own room, in fact. He just… can’t. Not yet. 

“Do you remember Park Hangyeol?” His father had asked him. “I doubt it, but I do recall that you’ve always had a tendency to stick your nose where it didn’t belong.”

It sounded like a compliment, in a weird way. He’d sounded… fond. 

“I can’t say I remember the name,” Hongjoong had said. “Why?”

“He was a colleague,” Myungdeuk replied. “And he was Seonghwa’s father.” 

His father had taken his hand at that point, looking at him with sincere eyes. 

“I think it’s important that you know what happened to him, Hongjoong-ah.”

Seonghwa killed his father.

Seonghwa killed his father, and he hadn’t told Hongjoong.

Hongjoong… 

Well, he feels weird about it. 

Is he mad? He doesn’t think so. 

He can’t say he’s never thought about doing the same. On the days where it’d been so long since he’d even seen his father that he could hardly remember his face, he would think about wrapping his hands around the man’s throat. 

Of course, would he have ever had the strength to do it?

He doesn’t think so. But he thinks that maybe, if he were anguished enough, maybe he would’ve found a way.

Is that what Seonghwa had done?

The door opens, snapping Hongjoong out of his thoughts. 

Something that Hongjoong has learned during his time at the Clan is that most vampires have a heightened sense of smell, and a majority of full-blooded vampires can detect someone’s blood composition from scent alone. Hongjoong, of course, isn’t as lucky; he’s convinced that one could hold a vial of blood right under his nose and he might not smell it even then. 

However, as soon as the door opens, he can certainly smell…  _ something. _

“No, but when were you going to tell  _ me, _ hyung?” Hyunjin says. That’s… Hyunjin. Why is he here? This is Jungkook and Chan’s room. “I thought we were past all of this shit, so why are you still hiding things from me?”

“That’s all, Hyunjin, I promise,” Chan says, following closely behind him, hands full of… medical supplies? Neither of them even seem to notice that Hongjoong is in the room, too wrapped up in their own conversation. “I wanted to tell you, I always have, but I just,” he pauses, grimacing before he continues. “I couldn’t take that kind of risk until I was sure I could trust you.”

Hyunjin stares at him for a moment, and Hongjoong can tell that that  _ definitely  _ struck a chord. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asks at last, bringing a hand to his temple. “Okay, so what does that tell me? That you really think so  _ lowly _ of me—”

“That isn’t what I meant—”

“Then just say what you fucking mean!” Hyunjin snaps, moving his hand, and Hongjoong belatedly realizes that that weird smell is his blood. “Like, what the hell do you want me to think, hyung? You’ve kept this from me for  _ how _ long?”

“You’re right,” Chan says, “and I’m sorry, but can you at least try and understand why I’d be worried?”

“Hyung, I’ve known you for three fucking years,” Hyunjin says. “And we’ve been doing this for, what, half that time? Did it ever occur to you that I should know?”

“Of course it did, but it’s not that easy, Hyunjin-ah.”

“Right,” Hyunjin says, moving to sit on the bed nearest to the window and crossing his arms. “Don’t know why I’m so fucking surprised. I’m always the problem, aren’t I? It’s always  _ my _ fault.”

Chan opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak, but quickly shuts it. He sighs. 

“Okay,” he says after a moment, moving closer to the bed and setting the supplies down. “I know you’re upset. I get that. I should have told you about this sooner, and I’m sorry. But can we put that aside for, like, five minutes so I can take care of your hand and maybe your neck? Just to stop the bleeding.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, holding out his injured hand. “Fine, just—”

His eyes finally land on Hongjoong. 

“Oh, god dammit.”

Hongjoong isn’t sure what to say. Tentatively, he raises his hand in a half-hearted wave. 

“Did you know he was in here?” Hyunjin asks, glaring at Chan.

“If I did, don’t you think I would’ve told you?” Chan asks. 

“Well, shit, I don’t know anymore!” Hyunjin says. “Would you?”

Chan sighs. 

“What happened to your hand?” Hongjoong asks.

“There was an incident with another student,” Chan answers, pulling a cloth and a bottle from the pile on the bed. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Hyunjin mutters, gritting his teeth as Chan gently cleans the wound on his hand. 

“Hongjoong-ah, if I remember correctly, you’ve talked to Choi San, have you not?”

Hongjoong tenses at the name. “For a time, yes.”

“Did he ever say anything strange to you?” Chan asks. He moves Hyunjin’s head to the side gently with a finger, and it’s then that Hongjoong notices the puncture wounds. 

“Did he do that?” Hongjoong asks before he can stop himself. 

Chan looks at him. “Yes,” he says. “He bit Hyunjin. We’ll get to that. Has he ever mentioned anything about something happening during Clanfest?”

“What? No,” Hongjoong replies in confusion. “Why? Why did he bite Hyunjin-ah?”

“Just tell him,” Hyunjin says. 

Chan sighs. “Do you know anything about the Order of the Black Rose?” He asks. “Has your father ever mentioned them in your presence?”

“I don’t think so,” Hongjoong says. 

“It’s really fucking unfair,” Hyunjin says, “that a dhampir like you gets a pass when they’ve—”

“Hyunjin, don’t,” Chan says. “Don’t say that like you’d wish any of that on anyone.”

“I’m just saying—”

“What’s he talking about?” Hongjoong asks. 

“They’ve never hurt you?” Hyunjin asks, an edge of desperation to his voice. “None of them? They’ve never done... anything to you?”

“No?” Hongjoong says, the shock in his voice making it sound like a question. 

“And that’s good,” Chan says, lightly dabbing at Hyunjin’s puncture wounds with another corner of the cloth. “But you should know about these people. For a few reasons. One being that they’re… coming here in three day’s time to crash Clanfest and potentially sacrifice you to Eden?” 

Hongjoong pauses, trying to process what he just heard. 

“They’re what?” He asks.

“Well, you and I,” Chan clarifies. “And Seonghwa. The Order think that they’ve found a way to destroy Eden, I think, so they need to summon him, and allegedly, spilling the blood of three dhampirs can do that. Or something.”

“Since when are you a dhampir?” Hongjoong asks. 

“That’s what I fucking said,” Hyunjin says. 

“Since always,” Chan says, ignoring Hyunjin’s remark. “Both of my parents are full vampires, and I still ended up this way. Doctors say my composition is in the high 80s or low 90s, but the composition index isn’t really the proper way to look at vampire blood anyway, so I don’t care too much about that.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hyunjin asks.

“It’s not important right now,” Chan says, straightening his posture. “What’s important is figuring out what we’re going to do with all of this.”

“What  _ can _ we do?” Hongjoong asks. “How powerful is this Order, anyway?”

“At least half of the Council is also in the Order, Hongjoong-ah,” Chan says. “And that includes your father. And both of ours.” He gestures between him and Hyunjin. “However, we do have one advantage.”

“And that is?”

“We have the Son of Eden.”

Hongjoong blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“San,” Chan clarifies. “He’s the Son. That’s why he’s here.”

“That,” Hongjoong starts, confused, “that’s  _ definitely _ not what he told me.”

_ “Why should the Son of Eden help someone of your blood?” _

The words echo in Hongjoong’s head. If San wanted to stop this Order, then why would he… 

“Hey,” Chan says, snapping Hongjoong out of his thoughts before they can spiral. “You okay?”

Hongjoong nods. “I’m fine,” he says. “I-I’ve always believed, is the thing. And I told him that, and he… he got angry when I told him.”

“And  _ I’m _ the one that gets bitten,” Hyunjin mutters. “And for what?”

“I’m starting to get the sense that San just likes sowing chaos,” Chan says. “But I think he might have something in mind for Clanfest.” He looks over at Hyunjin. “Can you confirm?”

“Fuck you,” Hyunjin says. 

Chan looks back to Hongjoong. “Hyunjin knows something, but San won’t let him tell anyone,” he explains. “Which is why I’m going to go find out for myself.”

“Right, well,” Hyunjin says, standing up, “you have fun with that.” 

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Chan doesn’t say anything, watching the younger leave with an unreadable expression. Once he’s gone, Chan sighs. 

“You didn’t tell him you were a dhampir?” Hongjoong says.

“Yeah,” Chan says. “I mean, I’ve wanted to, of course, but I mean,” he sighs. “You saw how he reacted. He’s… volatile. And, like, it’s always this balancing act with him, you know? I don’t always know what I’m supposed to say or do.”

Hongjoong probably knows as much about Chan as he does about Jungkook, if not a little bit more. One thing he knows for sure, however, is that Chan is caring to a fault. 

“I’d known him before,” Hongjoong says. “Like, we never spoke, but I’d see him at the house.” He locks eyes with Chan. “Hyung, what did they do?”

Chan inhales deeply. “You don’t want to know,” he says. “Trust me.”

Hongjoong nods. “My father offered to help me get on the Council earlier tonight,” he says slowly, as if he’s unsure if he should tell Chan. “Like, when I’m older. Do you think that if I did, he would’ve told me about the Order?”

“I don’t know,” Chan says. “I don’t know too much about how the Order works, if I’m honest.” He stands. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, though. Are you planning on waiting here for Jungkook-hyung?”

Hongjoong thinks for a moment. “I probably should go,” he says. “I think I need to find Seonghwa.”

The two head to the door in silence. 

Hongjoong should ask. He feels like he has to.

“Hey, hyung,” he says. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Chan says. 

“If you,” Hongjoong pauses, figuring out how to word what he wants to say. “If Hyunjin-ah killed someone, how would you react?”

Chan chuckles. “That’s a hell of a question,” he says. “I think you forget that I have access to most everyone’s records here, Hongjoong-ah.” He places a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “If you need to take time to figure out how to feel about Seonghwa, that’s fine.”

“So you know?”

Chan nods. “I’ll be honest, most everyone does, Hongjoong-ah,” he says. “Some of the rumors kind of dramatize the whole thing, but that’s to be expected. The point is that you’re allowed to be conflicted. A lot is going on at once; you don’t have all the answers right now.”

Hongjoong nods. “Thanks.”

Chan drops his hand and starts walking away. He turns around after a moment.

“If it were me, though,” he says, “I’d be burying a body.”

Hongjoong smiles, and he can’t quite figure out why. Perhaps it’s because part of him already has his answer. He starts walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay also, hi, just to clarify with some of the kids:
> 
> Hyunchan's relationship is?????? Complex. They've got a lot going on. People around the Clan have suspected something between Hyunjin and Jisung, however, which is why the only real hints at a relationship previously were between the two of them. I'm gonna get into that next time, but like, just to clarify. 
> 
> (The meta reason is I started this before I really started stanning skz and I was like, "hm. Hyunsung is popular. We'll go with that." And then I actually started stanning and I became interested in Hyunchan's dynamic. I'm sure I'm gonna absolutely butcher it over the course of this series, but it's fine... right?)
> 
> Anyways!! Twitter is still poisonhwa if u wanna get updates on my brain problems or pictures of my desk three days in a row.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a minute, little longer than I would've liked but in my defense, February is the shortest month of the year? 
> 
> I've reread this fic a few times. Partly to remember what I wrote while I'm writing, partly to correct any errors, and partly because I'm writing this for me before I'm writing it for anyone else uwu.  
> Anyway, something that I think might be a liiiiiittle unclear is when everyone got to the Clan here. So here's the breakdown.
> 
> Seonghwa and Hyunjin entered something like 3 years before the events of this fic. Seonghwa arrived at 19, which is a little later than expected (18), and Hyunjin arrived early at 17. Chan had been there for about 2/3 years when Hyunjin arrived, and their stories are interconnected, we know this, etc etc. Jungkook it's probably about the same. Jisung, despite being human, has been there for maybe a little under a year. Like San said, humans are kept on the grounds just in case, but there might also be something else going on. Anyway, at this point in the story, Hongjoong has been there for like a month. I'll be going back to make sure that's a bit more clear. 
> 
> What else... there's a mild gore warning for this chapter. Still a few mentions of blood and injuries. I also talk about blood-scents, and I hate that I'm introducing a new concept so late into the game, but listen, it wasn't relevant before. Oopsies! 
> 
> That's,,,,, about it for the opening stuff, I guess! This one is fun. >:)

Seonghwa has never been very good at waiting. 

Ever since the incident with San earlier that evening, he’s been buzzing with energy, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’d tried studying for a while, but he found himself unable to read more than a few words before his mind began to wander. 

It’s a lot to take in, for sure. He could die in just three days’ time. He could end up killing— again. He doesn’t know which is worse. 

And on top of that, Hongjoong could die. And that’s… 

Well, he thinks that might be the worst possible outcome. 

His reasoning is fairly simple; as much as Hongjoong might like to insist that he and Seonghwa are the same, Seonghwa knows that isn’t true. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Hongjoong has lived his life so far removed from nearly everyone, so far removed from the harsh realities that face so many of their kind. He’s pure in ways that Seonghwa could never be. 

He thinks that might be why he’s more worried about Hongjoong than himself. There’s so much that Hongjoong could do, so much that he could see, if he could only make it through the next few days. Seonghwa, on the other hand, he’s… tainted, and not simply by his blood. Or rather, not by the blood that runs through his veins, but the blood on his hands. Hongjoong has never hurt anyone, and Seonghwa imagines that he never would. 

That’s why Hongjoong has to live, more so than Seonghwa does.

It’s easy to dwell on the what-ifs of the situation. He’s agreed to help San and potentially take out this weird cult resting just under the surface of the Blood Council, but there’s so many ways that it could go wrong. So, before he can spiral too far, Seonghwa makes his way to an empty practice room. 

The practice rooms are all more or less the same, made to suit multiple purposes. The mirrored walls make it easy to practice fencing drills, and so that’s what he does. It’s an easy way to keep his mind busy, monitoring his footwork, maintaining spatial awareness, and practicing his lunge. He’s good at it. He supposes he’s had a lot of time to practice over his three years at the Clan.

“You too, huh?”

And he supposes that it’s ultimately a good thing he’s finally found a worthy adversary in Hwang Hyunjin. 

Seonghwa makes eye contact with him through the mirror. Something that Seonghwa has noticed about Hyunjin is that he usually seems rather put-together. Even after fencing class, there’s hardly a blond hair out of place on him, and if Seonghwa cared any more about his own appearance, he thinks it might infuriate him a little bit. Now, however, Hyunjin definitely looks… worn down. The faint smell of blood certainly doesn’t help the younger’s case, either. 

“How’s the neck?” Seonghwa asks.

“Like you actually care,” Hyunjin mutters, stepping further into the room.

Seonghwa turns around to face the younger properly. “And if I said I did?”

Hyunjin only holds eye contact for a moment before looking away. “It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure you should be sparring?” Seonghwa asks, walking toward the corner to find a spare foil. “Your hand doesn’t look that great. How’d you even manage that?”

Hyunjin holds the bandaged hand to his chest. “Hyung said I probably gripped the glass too hard when I...” He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “I didn’t come here to talk, Hwa.” 

Seonghwa returns to his original spot, holding out the spare foil. “I know,” he says. “But, for what it’s worth, San and I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Hyunjin says. “I mean it, I don’t want to talk about him. I already feel like he’s watching my every fucking move.” 

Seonghwa shrugs. “Alright,” he says. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Don’t you dare.” 

And with that, the two fall into their starting positions. This is easy; it’s always been easy, and even now, Seonghwa can pretend their worlds aren’t falling apart around them by immersing himself in the fight. 

Hyunjin is always on the offensive, his movements knifelike and fast, and if Seonghwa were any less skilled, he’s sure the fight would be over nearly as soon as it had started. 

It’s kind of strange, Seonghwa thinks, how easy it had been for him to figure Hyunjin out. Even from the beginning, the younger had been brash and violent with a filthy mouth that Seonghwa definitely didn’t find very becoming of a noble.  Hyunjin, of course, didn’t like him pointing that out, and Seonghwa had walked out of that first class with a severely bruised jaw and, though he would never admit it, a very sore ego. 

As such, Seonghwa learned to develop a more defensive style of fighting, and while he may not match Hyunjin in speed, he makes up for it with his agility.  It’s easy to fall into a rhythm. Usually, Hyunjin will spend half of the time fighting and half of the time basically just insulting Seonghwa, but tonight he’s uncharacteristically quiet. Seonghwa would usually pry, but after the night they’ve both had, it doesn’t feel right. 

Regardless, it’s good. Familiar. 

And then it isn’t. 

It only takes a moment, a single misstep, and suddenly Hyunjin is falling toward Seonghwa. Thinking quickly, Seonghwa reaches out and grabs the younger’s arm in an attempt to keep him upright. It would’ve worked, he thinks, but Hyunjin flinches. Hard.

The two end up on the matted floor of the practice room. Luckily, Hyunjin manages to catch himself before he falls entirely onto Seonghwa, holding out his hands so that he’s only hovering over the other, for the most part. 

Unfortunately, it looks… or rather,  _ smells _ like his wound has reopened, and Hyunjin’s blood is the only thing that Seonghwa can smell. 

Describing the scent of blood has always been difficult for Seonghwa, especially since he doesn’t have as strong of a sense as regular vampires do. It always smells like blood, but someone’s blood can definitely smell— or taste— better than someone else’s. Of course, Seonghwa has also never had an open wound so close to his nose before. It’s…

The only word that comes to mind to describe the scent is  _ sweet _ . Almost sickeningly so. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa says, trying his best not to breathe through his nose. “Are you alright?”

Hyunjin doesn’t respond right away, eyes still boring into Seonghwa’s for a few short moments as he catches his breath. Hyunjin blinks and suddenly, as if coming out of a trance, his expression shifts to one of annoyance. 

“No,” he says, sitting up. “Not, I’m not fucking alright, what kind of a question is that?”

Seonghwa sits up as well, finally able to breathe freely. “Did you want to talk about it?”

“With you?” Hyunjin scoffs.

“I know more about what’s going on than anyone else,” Seonghwa replies, as if it’s obvious. 

Hyunjin sighs. “This is insane,” he says. “Literally, no part of tonight has felt real. I,” he cuts himself off, rubbing at his temple with his uninjured hand. “Hyung and I aren’t supposed to keep shit from each other. Like, I could give less of a fuck about his blood. I just don’t get why he felt like I didn’t deserve to know.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Seonghwa says. “I mean, I only just found out that Hongjoong-ah is Myungdeuk’s son.”

“Fuck, don’t remind me,” Hyunjin groans. “Do you know the guy? He’s a fucking monster.”

“I know enough about Councilmen to take you at your word,” Seonghwa replies. 

Neither of them speak for a moment. 

“What the hell are we going to do?” Hyunjin asks.

“It’s my understanding that you already know,” Seonghwa says.

Hyunjin glares at him. “And you expect that to work?”

Seonghwa shrugs. “He’s invulnerable,” he says. “Surely, he can take a few of them out. And I’ve offered to help, for what that’s worth.”

Hyunjin hesitates for a moment before asking. “Why?”

“Supposedly, half the Clan already knows,” Seonghwa says. 

“So,” Hyunjin says, “you mean the rumors are true?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Depends what story you’ve heard, apparently.”

“I’ve heard at least three,” Hyunjin replies. “But you have, right? Killed someone.”

“My father,” Seonghwa says. “Does the name Park Hangyeol mean anything to you?”

Hyunjin’s reaction is instantaneous, his eyes widening to a point that Seonghwa worries they might fall out. “You-”

“He was in this Rose Order, wasn’t he?” Seonghwa asks. 

Hyunjin nods shakily. “H-he… yeah.”

Seonghwa nods. “That’s not that surprising,” he says. 

“Did he ever—”

“No,” Seonghwa answers, already knowing the question. “Never got the chance, I’m afraid.”

A tense silence falls over them.

“How did you do it?”

Seonghwa looks at Hyunjin, raising an eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?”

Hyunjin nods. “He killed… someone close to me,” he says. “I feel like I need to know.”

Seonghwa takes a deep breath. “I was around ten,” he says. “I don’t quite know how I managed to do it, but I tackled him to the ground. And then I bit him. Ended up tearing into his throat pretty bad, so there was… blood everywhere. It was the first time I’d tasted blood, you know. So I just… went a little feral, I guess. When they finally found me and pulled me away, the man’s head was more or less detached from his body.” 

He looks down at his hands, seeing them stained with red once more, and for once he feels nothing.

“Do you think it was enough?” Seonghwa asks. “Should I have made him suffer even further?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I think you did the right thing,” he says. “Better than I could have.”

Seonghwa hums. “I’m glad,” he says. “It’s funny; I’ve spent years fearing the part of myself that tells me that killing others is acceptable, and now I have to embrace that if I want to stay alive.”

“It’s a vampire thing, Hwa,” Hyunjin says, smiling wryly. “It’s how we’re made.”

“Maybe it is,” Seonghwa says, almost to himself. He stands, extending a hand toward Hyunjin. “You should probably get one of the nurses to look at your hand. Not that I’m doubting your hyung’s abilities, but just in case.”

Hyunjin observes Seonghwa’s hand for a moment before taking it, allowing the older to help him up. Seonghwa grimaces. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” He asks. “Is this a way of marking your territory?”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Did I do what—”

“Your hand, Hyunjin-ah.”

The younger looks down at where their hands are still linked. Sure enough, Seonghwa is holding his injured hand, the bandages bright red with fresh blood. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin says. “No?” 

Seonghwa untangles their hands and claps his now-bloodied hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says. “Just get it taken care of before we have a bunch of bloodthirsty clanmates running around.” 

Hyunjin sighs. “Sure,” he says. 

It’s… kind of awkward after that. Hyunjin leaves shortly after, and Seonghwa takes a minute or two to return the foils and scan the floor for any blood. He can never be too sure; even now, he can feel the familiar tickle in the back of his throat. It certainly doesn’t help that he probably has Hyunjin’s blood-scent on his hand. 

And he still has a class later in two hours. He should shower, at the very least. 

He exits the practice room quietly, making sure that the lights are off on his way out. He’s in the common area closest to his room when he spots Hongjoong. The two of them lock eyes for a moment.

Seonghwa should say something, shouldn’t he? Do something. He really isn’t sure what to say. How does he even begin to talk about what’s going on? 

Hongjoong approaches him, and Seonghwa hopes that maybe he’ll do most of the talking. He’s been somewhere, right? Chan mentioned it. Surely, they can talk about something that isn’t freaky cults or patricide for a minute, right?

“Hey,” Hongjoong says as soon as he’s close enough. “We should talk.”

Great.

* * *

“We should talk.”

It feels weird coming from his mouth, too formal. Too serious. Though Hongjoong supposes he has to be serious now, as much as he would rather not.

Seonghwa nods solemnly. “We should,” he says. “Not here, though.”

Hongjoong nods, and the two walk to their room, a tense silence settling between them.

Seonghwa unlocks and opens the door without a word, stepping aside to let Hongjoong in first. 

“Thanks,” he says. 

Seonghwa hums. “Did you want to go first?”

Did he? Hongjoong isn’t sure. He shrugs. 

“If that works,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m just not sure where to start.”

“Your father was here,” Seonghwa says, sitting across from him on his own bed. “Jeon Myungdeuk.”

“I— yeah.” Hongjoong tilts his head. “How did you know that?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. So how did that go?”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath. “He offered me a position on the Council,” he says. “Neither of us really know what kind of role I could serve, but he said he’s willing to look into it if I’m willing to… forgive him, I guess.” 

Seonghwa blinks, and for a second he almost looks confused before he schools his expression. 

“He also told me something,” Hongjoong continues, fingers unconsciously tangling in his hair. “Something… about you.”

“I figured he might,” Seonghwa says. “Just go ahead and ask.”

Hongjoong looks up. “How are you so casual about it?” He asks. “We’re talking about the same thing, right? He told me you killed your father.”

“Yes.”

There’s a short pause. 

“So,” Hongjoong starts, “you did? You killed Park Hangyeol?”

“I did,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong can’t really tell what the older is feeling. 

He doesn’t know how he feels about it himself.

“C-can you maybe walk me through how that happened?” Hongjoong asks after a moment. 

“Do you want me to tell you how? I’ve already done it once today, I’ll warn you.”

“No, I mean,” Hongjoong pauses, sighing. “I want to know why.”

Seonghwa smiles sadly. “I don’t know if I even know the full story, Hongjoong-ah,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “If I’m entirely honest, there’s no one answer for that question. Hangyeol was just like any other Council member, and I’m only finally starting to get that. So many of these men and women just… don’t care about the people around them. Hangyeol was no different. We’re all just pawns to them, especially kids like you and I.”

“Did he… hurt you?”

“I imagine he would have if I’d ever given him the chance,” Seonghwa replies. “I’d lived with my mother up until she died when I was around eight or nine. That’s when he swooped in and picked me up. For a year, it was nice; he treated me like he treated his other children. And then he just… didn’t. It felt like losing another parent, I guess.” 

“So you killed him,” Hongjoong finishes. 

Seonghwa hesitates for a moment before nodding. “I can’t remember much about it,” he admits, examining his hands as he speaks. “Like, one minute he was there, and then the next he wasn’t, and my hands were covered in blood.” He looks up. “And then they sent me away. And from there, I was brought here.” 

Hongjoong has the feeling that there’s more to the story, something that Seonghwa isn’t telling him, but he doesn’t press. 

“I told him no,” he says instead. “My father.”

Seonghwa looks surprised. “Did you?” He asks. “Why?”

“Well,” Hongjoong says, “I told him it was something I didn’t feel ready for, and that I didn’t know if I would ever be ready. And then he told me about you, and I… I doubled down.”

“So you turned him down,” Seonghwa says, “because of me.”

“Basically,” Hongjoong replies. “I… I’m not sure how to say this.” 

Seonghwa raises a brow. “Say what?”

“Chan-hyung told me about what’s happening,” Hongjoong says, and he’s finding it hard to talk, like his mouth is having a hard time forming around the syllables all of a sudden. “I-I don’t know a lot about it, but I know that we could die.” He clears his throat. “And I don’t want that to happen without telling you.”

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa asks, face growing concerned. “You look sick.”

Hongjoong  _ feels _ sick, like the room is distorting around him. The room is too cold, but he can feel himself break out into a sweat. 

And above all of that, his throat is  _ on fire. _

He coughs, hoping to alleviate the feeling. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m—”

Seonghwa stands, moving closer to him, and that’s when that smell hits him again.

He smelled it before, in Jungkook’s room. That tantalizing, almost impossibly sweet smell.

It’s Hyunjin’s blood-scent. 

Oh. 

He’s having an impulsive episode. 

Hongjoong holds his hands out. “Get away from me,” he wheezes. “I-I won’t… I can’t…”

“Hongjoong-ah, I can help you,” Seonghwa says, and he sounds panicked. “Let me help you.”

Something is taking over Hongjoong, clouding his judgement, turning his vision red. He sees Seonghwa reaching out his hand and he grabs it. 

And then, out of instinct, and maybe something else, he pulls Seonghwa closer to him. 

His nose finds the crook of the older’s neck, and without thinking, he bites down with everything he has. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:)))))))
> 
> They're fine, I promise. Everyone's good. They've gotta be!
> 
> Because next chapter is Clanfest binch!!!!!!
> 
> Also, I have a new twitter. It's peppermint_twt. I'm gonna use it for AU updates, sneak-peeks, stuff like that. 
> 
> And!!! And.
> 
> I'm starting Hyunchan's side story probably next week. Because they need more fics, I'm literally starving, so I am learning to cook! I already have a scene worked out, and then ideally I will have another excerpt to share on this, how you say, "WIP Wednesday" I keep hearing so much about. 
> 
> Also, also, not to like beg for interaction or anything, but I wanna emphasize how much I appreciate comments and kudos!!!!! If you wanna include constructive criticism, PLEAse do so!!!! I have a degree in this stuff, I wanna know how people think I can improve, even if I am just here for fun! I love hearing what people have to say about the fic in general, too!!!! Even if you only leave a keysmash or an eyes emoji, you will LiteraLY make my day.


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